Special Investigations Division: Genesis
by Loki's Son
Summary: 3 years later, the SID team is re-formed. Pitted against the Orion Syndicate, they will pay the ultimate price as the Orions pursue a vendetta.
1. Chapter 1

22

**Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek or its related properties. All such rights and considerations belong to CBS/Paramount.**

**This is the eighth installment of the _Special Investigations Series_. Hold on because more is coming.**

* * *

_2381 – Three years later,_

The _Blackbird_-class scout, _Solstice_, dove into the planetary atmosphere. The advantage the _Solstice _had in this situation is that she _was _designed for atmospheric operations. The earlier _Blackbirds_ had been strictly extra-atmospheric operations platforms. The _Solstice _was also the first new hull construction of the class in thirty years. A lot of design options had developed in that amount of time.

Corbal V's atmosphere held a high ion charge. Upon atmospheric entry, the _Solstice _lost her primary sensors. The more heavily shielded auxiliaries engaged but the price of being more heavily shielded was that they were less sensitive, which reads as less effective. The ship's main viewer transformed into a miasma of static before shifting to a straight camera shot angled straight ahead from the "nose" of the ship's saucer section.

* * *

"Grace," Tom Riker called as he rose from the command chair. A sudden, and unexpected, bout of turbulence almost threw Riker back into his seat, "What the holy hell are you playing at Hannah?"

"It's not me, honest." the young woman at the helm replied, "The ion density in the atmosphere is higher than we expected. It's playing hob with our sensors and the electrostatic discharges are creating turbulence. That's just the way it is. I suggest you sit down and ride it out quietly with the rest of us, _sir_!"

Slightly stunned, Riker sat down. He idly wondered what had ever happened to the meek, mild, and slightly timid woman that had been the crew's pilot for the last six years. And therein lay the answer. Grace _had _spent the last six years serving with, and living beside, the crew of the _Solstice. _Although the ships had changed a few times over this period, the crew had largely remained intact. They'd become an ersatz family of sorts, certainly more than a collection of lost souls with nowhere else to go.

"Hannah, what's going on?" Brin Macen asked as he and T'Kir stepped out of the turbolift.

"I'm on it, Captain. Take a seat and relax." Grace grated.

Macen's eyebrows rose. He glanced over towards T'Kir and nudged his head in the direction of T'Kir's OPS station, situated right beside Grace's Helm. T'Kir warmly smiled, an unsettling sight on any Vulcan other than T'Kir, and she went off and manned her station.

"`Lo Hannah." T'Kir greeted her jovially, "`S'up?"

Grace gritted her teeth in anger for a moment, then unclenched her jaw with a sigh, "The aerial guides are misaligned and the manoeuvring thrusters are wonky, and have been for a month. I'm flying a ship with the glide potential of a brick virtually blind and with unreliable flight controls. I honestly don't know if I can pull it off this time."

An exceptionally powerful telepath even amongst other known telepathic races, T'Kir could sense the anguish that Grace's admission cost her. T'Kir stabbed the intercom button and keyed it to Engineering.

"Parva, haul your ass up to the bridge _now_!"

Riker cast a pained expression Macen's way. Macen wore a bemused grin and shrugged. The chain of command aboard the _Solstice _was fairly loose. There was only one cardinal rule: Macen _was _the ship's captain.

Long before Macen and T'Kir had become engaged, they'd served alongside one another in the Maquis. T'Kir had been subordinate to Macen then as well. He'd become well acquainted with her tendency to circumvent authority early on. Although this trait was far from tamed, he'd curtailed her attempts to usurp his command

Riker, dealing from the position of Executive Officer, felt that any challenge to his authority belittled his position. After three years, he'd curbed his knee-jerk hostile reaction to T'Kir's antics, especially after seeing that they had the tacit support of the Ship's captain. Riker contented himself with nonverbal protests to T'Kir's various actions. At first to his ire, and now to his ongoing surprise, T'Kir's unsolicited deeds were more often than not the exact solution needed for whatever problem she was attempting to tackle.

_It doesn't hurt that she's a telepath._ Riker thought to himself, _In fact, she's probably reading me right now._

"How could I not, Tom." T'Kir replied over her shoulder, "You're thinking hard enough to give me a headache."

_Oh, Christ!_ Riker thought miserably.

Macen clapped him on the shoulder as he passed by, "Relax Tom. She's merely playing with you."

"What happens when she stops playing?""

"First, your nose bleeds, then your vision darkens and it feels like your skull explodes as a massive haemorrhage engulfs your brain."

"Sorry I asked." Riker muttered.

"Never ask unless you're ready for the answer." Macen counselled.

"And should I be afraid to ask how you know this?" Riker tentatively inquired.

Macen's grin was wicked, "Probably."

"Thanks for the warning." Riker replied.

* * *

Macen was still grinning as he passed Rab Daggit and his Tactical station to take a seat at his Information Systems station. The bridge Science station had been removed and all function rerouted to Astrometrics. In its place was a custom designed station that overlapped the various sensor displays and communication feeds. The InfoSys also contained the library computer.

InfoSys was located behind Tactical. The _Solstice's _bridge generally followed the layout of the _Galaxy_-class Battle Bridge. The OPS and Helm stations sat directly in front of the main viewer. Centred behind them sat the Command chair and its displays. Behind Command, on an elevated deck, lay the Tactical board. Tactical was the solitary standing station on the bridge. InfoSys was built into the rear bulkhead.

The turbolift opened to the "left" of the bridge, when facing the viewer. At the rear of the bridge was another door. This door led to the main briefing room. The briefing room was designed for six officers, the normal complement aboard a _Blackbird_-class scout. This design element made for some interesting adaptations when briefing all nine members of the _Solstice's_ crew.

The _Solstice_ herself appeared to be a sleek, streamlined hybrid between the _Ambassador_ and _Excelsior_-class ships. One major difference was her overall length of 104 metres versus those of 526 metres and 467 metres respectively. She'd been designed for a crew complement of twenty-two officers and crewmen. The original _Blackbird_-class ships had been scoutships and border patrol vessels. They'd been replaced by the _Sabre_-class.

The _Solstice _had been built from the keel up as a multi-role covert operations platform. Starfleet's Special Projects Yard had constructed her for Outbound Ventures, Inc. At the time, Outbound Ventures was primarily a front for a group of irregulars contracted with Starfleet Intelligence's Special Investigations Division. Over time, accepting contracts between SID assignments, Outbound Ventures garnered quite a reputation amongst the security "consulting" firms.

Three years ago, when one influential Starfleet admiral persuaded enough of his peers, the SID was forbidden the use of irregulars. All freelance contracted employees were discharged. Macen and his crew decided to make a go of it working full time for Outbound Ventures. Macen hired on one new captain and equipped her with a ship. He also recruited five of the irregulars to join the corporation. The _Solstice _was now the flagship of a seven vessel "fleet".

The crew had adapted to their new role with surprising equanimity. On average, their assignments were far more leisurely than they had been with Starfleet. Then there were the rare cases that imperilled every member of the crew. It also worked on the individual level. The average criminal they confronted was an idiot. The odd malevolent geniuses arose just to prove that criminals, too, could escape the law of averages.

The crew's contract this time around wasn't overtly difficult but there were potential complications. The situation on Corbal was simple enough. Corbal was a mining outpost. Although there was a regular rotation for sending miners offworld to their families, Corbal itself boasted quite and impressive entertainment industry. The Ferengi and the Bolians had struggled over most of the franchise rights. Even the Bajorans maintained a presence on Corbal.

In order to accommodate the miners' needs and desires, the various mining cartels distributed the bulk of their employees' wages amongst the families but a portion was set aside for the miners themselves. Given the profitability of the mines and the nature of the profit sharing agreements between most of the miners and the owners, that accounted for a great deal of latinum.

The problem presented itself in the form of a band of raiders that had held up the last three payroll shipments. It was unknown whether these pirates represented a lone effort or an exercise of a larger, malignant will. Macen and his crew were ostensibly here to deliver the payroll. In truth, they were here to safeguard the latinum, apprehend the raiders, and if possible, recover the stolen cash. But first, they had to land in one piece.

The turbolift doors opened and disgorged a lone passenger. A green-skinned woman sallied forth and headed straight for T'Kir. Blonde bangs and strips framing her emerald face highlighted her raven hair. Her name was Parva, and since the departure of Hal Dracas, she'd been the _Solstice's _Chief Engineer.

* * *

"What in the seven hells do you mean to talk to me like that?" Parva hotly demanded of T'Kir.

"What the hell d'you mean by not calibrating the thrusters? Grace is having difficulty." T'Kir informed the incensed engineer, "She doesn't know if she can land this _frinxing _albatross."

The turbolift doors had opened again during this exchange, revealing an auburn haired Bajoran woman, "Are we gonna crash? I _don't _want to crash."

Riker pinched his nose and closed his eyes, "We aren't going to crash, Radil. Are we, Hannah?"

"I have no _frinxing _clue." Grace replied with a tinge of panic.

T'Kir and Parva engaged in a shouting match while Radil fretted and Grace crumbled before their eyes. Riker was about to shout out instructions for everyone to shut up and calm down when a piercing whistle sounded across the bridge. Macen stood beside Rab Daggit, the only composed crewman on the bridge. It was hard to rattle the former commando.

Cursed with a singular inability to whistle, Macen relied upon a mechanical whistle to get his point across in situations such as this. He returned it to its pocket in his utility belt and surveyed the bridge with a slow steady gaze.

"Anyone that doesn't have an active duty station on the bridge, clear off. Now." Macen said in calm, measured tones, "T'Kir, see what you can do about improving sensor performance. Tom, contact the local equivalent of traffic control. See if they can help guide us in."

Macen strode over to the Helm station and knelt beside it, "Hannah, don't panic. You're doing fine. You've gotten us through worse in the past. You'll get us through this as well. I have faith in you. Have a little more in yourself."

Grace looked at Macen with tears welling up in her eyes, "Thank you, Captain." She sniffled and wiped her eyes, "I can do this." she said with a little more conviction. "I'm _going _to do this." she vowed, "By God, I'm going to pull this off."

"That's the spirit." Macen said and squeezed her shoulder as he rose.

"Thanks." Riker whispered as he passed by.

Macen paused and broke into a lopsided grin, "All in the job description. Look it up."

Riker chuckled, "And where would I find that?"

"In the library computer under 'lost in the woods'." Macen laughed and returned to the InfoSys station.

* * *

Within a few minutes, the interference clouding the sensors largely faded. Parva began co-ordinating with Grace and made some significant adjustments to the thruster settings. Grace was then able to stabilise the descent. There were still bumps along the way, but nothing perilous or alarming.

They proceeded to the primary mining camp. The landing strip was seven kilometres outside of the compound. They would bring the payroll in to town and hand it over to the paymaster. In order to do this, they'd have to divide the crew into two groups.

The _Solstice's _crew was primarily divided into two groups: the Investigative team and the Ship's Crew. The Investigative team had four permanent members, Brin Macen, T'Kir, Rab Daggit, and Radil Jenrya. Riker was the only fixture on the ship's complement. Hannah Grace and Parva were occasionally called in to an investigation but it was rare. The ship's Klingon medic and Trill scientific expert were also called in to solve esoteric riddles.

This time, the usual four team members were proceeding into town. The others were on hot stand-by in case of an intervention by the raiders' ship. If things went as expected, both teams would have their work cut out for them today.

Macen's team would be utilising a Work Drone to deliver the two cargo containers holding the latinum. The Work Drone's were a terrestrial variant of the Work Bee. The Drone was slightly longer than the Bee and possessed magnetic repulsorlifts as its primary powertrain. The _Solstice's _Drone was also a convertible model. Since local conditions were sunny and warm, as would be expected of a high desert terrain in the middle of its summer season, the team opted to keep the top down and enjoy the suns.

Daggit and Radil already had the Drone prepped and ready by the time Macen, T'Kir, and Riker reached the shuttlebay they'd be using to launch the Drone.

"We'll be ready to move the moment these pirates make a move." Riker assured Macen.

"Didn't expect anything less." Macen confessed, "Take care of the crew, Tom."

Riker grinned confidently, "I always do. You all take care as well."

"And miss all the action and excitement?" T'Kir interjected.

Riker shook his head and Macen pulled T'Kir over to the Drone and pointed. She boarded with a shrug and nestled in behind the flight controls. Macen sat beside her. Daggit and Radil had the rear seat. Somehow, the seating arrangements seemed preordained.

Grace manned the shuttlebay's flight control "centre". Riker joined her and observed as she manipulated the tractor controls and elevated the Type 18 shuttle into the air. As the _Equinox _hovered there, T'Kir manoeuvred the Drone into place over the drop doors.

"_Mule's _in place and ready to commence." T'Kir said into her earpiece/microphone receiver/transmitter.

"Roger that _Mule_." Grace said, all poise and precision now that she'd conquered her earlier doubts, "Standby for 'Go' in three…two…one…Go!"

The drop doors swung open and the Drone fell out of the bay, plummeting towards the ground. T'Kir kicked up the repulsorlifts and brought the work sled to a controlled hover a few metres off the ground.

"Let's get busy." Macen instructed and T'Kir toggled the throttle and sped the _Mule _off towards the mining camp.

* * *

The arrivals of the _Solstice_ and subsequently, the _Mule_, caused quite a stir in Latinum Central, the largest mining camp on Corbal. Out in front of the Paymaster's office stood Franjean Rool, the mine's general manager, Aldous Drinkwater, the Paymaster, and two local security guards. They stood out in front of the watering troughs for the pack animals the miners sometimes employed.

Off duty miners loitered about, seeking free entertainment. Free was the operative word these days since no one had been paid for three weeks. The mining companies had swiftly provided food replicators, clothing, and other sundry items. They refused, however, to pay for their workers' cavorting with professional "entertainers".

Rool, for one, was surprised at the appearance and numbers of his "supposed" expert security team. He'd expected a small army, not a mere armed contingent comprised of two people. Not that these two didn't appear dangerous.

Brin Macen hopped out of the _Mule's_ passenger compartment. He wore black cargo pants and boots. His leather utility belt possessed a holster that descended to his mid-thigh. Macen topped off his ensemble with a charcoal grey tee shirt and black sensor glasses. Sensor glasses acted as both sunglasses and vision enhancers.

Macen himself was 1.84 metres tall and of medium build. Four years of daily workouts with the physically imposing Daggit had honed Macen's physique to the best shape of his extended life. Macen was an El-Aurian and had lived for over four hundred and thirty years. He possessed reddish-gold hair and wore a moustache and goatee. His eyes were a light blue that reflected the colour of whatever he wore.

If Macen's mien unsettled Rool, the causes behind it would have terrified him. Like all of the El-Aurians dwelling in the Alpha Quadrant, Macen was a survivor of the Borg assimilation of his homeworld. This event was followed by many trials that cost both lives and the refugees' ships. When they entered the Alpha Quadrant there were only a few hundred survivors left. These hundreds encountered the Nexus and nothing was the same.

"Rescued" by the _Enterprise-B_, a handful of El-Aurians were ripped from paradise and harshly returned to "reality". Macen recovered from the shock of these events by enlisting in Starfleet. His goal was to prevent such incidents from occurring in the Alpha Quadrant.

Macen's Starfleet career began sedately enough until he had an encounter as a junior officer with the Orion Syndicate. Macen ran a sting operation that resulted in the capture and arrests of dozens of Syndicate operatives. This garnered the attention of Starfleet Intelligence.

Macen began at Starfleet Intelligence as an analyst. His accuracy and clear, poignant delivery earned him praise and gained him more official notice. When the Federation first encountered the Cardassians, Macen was sent on a fact finding mission. The mission was a near disaster; the ship and crew Macen had travelled with were engaged and almost destroyed. Fortunately, the captain was canny and outmanoeuvred the Cardassians. Macen's insights into the Cardassian mentality were Starfleet's first in-depth glimpse into the mind of a potential enemy.

Macen served on the front lines of the Cardassian border throughout the length of the Border Wars. This association gave Macen a strong affinity for the local colonists as well as an excellent network of reliable sources. These assets came into play when Macen was assigned to infiltrate the Maquis in the newly created Demilitarised Zone between the Cardassian Union and the Federation. The Maquis were a band of self-proclaimed freedom fighters labelled as terrorists by the respective governments involved with the DMZ.

Macen had a surprise in store for Starfleet. He didn't intend to betray the Maquis by spying on them neither did he intend to betray Starfleet by abandoning his duty. Working alongside Ro Laren, Macen proceeded to submit reports on the noblest aspects of the Maquis while utilising his security clearance to access information that allowed Ro's cell to evade capture. Meanwhile, Macen assembled an intelligence gathering unit that was the rival of anything Starfleet could have fielded.

This was where Macen met T'Kir. Ro had foisted her off on him, unwilling to cope with the young Vulcan's increasing mental instability. It was a good move as it turned out. Surprisingly, she was one of the quadrant's premier hackers.

The rebellion continued unabated until the Jem'Hadar arrived. The Dominion bred troops reinforced the Cardassians and together they set out to eliminate the Maquis. Ro's cell was one of the few to escape the slaughter. Macen surrendered his ship and his crew to the Federation authorities with the promise of fair hearings and commuted sentences for all. Macen, on the other hand, returned to Starfleet's fold.

Throughout the Dominion War, Macen served as the Intelligence officer for a commando unit. This is where he met Daggit. Their unit served behind enemy lines for over 98% of their missions. Macen earned the respect of the commandoes by accompanying them to the battlefield and fighting alongside them when they allowed it.

The war's conclusion found Macen between assignments. This condition swiftly ended when he was called upon to investigate rumours of a gulag containing political dissidents from the Federation. Macen was reunited with Lisea Danan and T'Kir from his old Maquis intelligence unit and given a prototype ship and a brand new crew. Kort and Grace ranked amongst the crew. The mission proved the existence of the gulag and steps were taken to shut it down forever.

Because of this mission, the SID was born. Macen was allowed to assemble a new crew that included Daggit, Kort, and Grace, and introduced Hal Dracas, for his old Maquis ship. The crew set sail to investigate the disappearance of a starship near Andergani territory. Pirates proved to be the culpable party. Only these pirates proved to be renegade Starfleet officers.

Macen's ship was destroyed and his chief engineer was taken captive. The surviving members of Macen's crew were recovered intact and he deployed several investigative teams to track these pirates down. Once found, Macen led a squadron of _Defiant_-class ships in to deal with the pirates.

Afterwards, Macen was charged with an illegal use of lethal force. The Board of Inquiry offered Macen a deal: take a reduction in rank and retirement or face a court martial. Admiral Drake, the Director of the SID, assured Macen that retirement into the Starfleet Reserves would not affect his status as an agent. It would, in fact, enhance it.

As irregulars, Macen and his people possessed a degree of flexibility and deniability that was denied them as official operatives. Under this status, the team handled scores of assignments in the three years they had before being terminated. Business had been brisk from the outset of Outbound Ventures diversifying their contracts. The team had faced many challenges but none like those in the SID days.

It was that lack of imminent crisis that Macen found the hardest to deal with. Although diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, decades of daily, life threatening situations had left Macen a bit of a thrill seeker. He'd often place himself in danger even though it wasn't absolutely necessary. This tendency, combined with the PTSD, made him prone to be more reactive than always required. Macen reacted to threats, real or perceived, and reacted in a violent manner when he did.

Under Starfleet regulations, Macen should have been remanded for psychotherapy years before. His talents, however, were required for the various wars and tasks he was assigned to, so he remained untreated. As far as Macen was concerned, there was no reason for treatment as of yet. He was functional and could still contribute to the success of a mission. That was good enough for him.

Macen coped with the loss of his status as an intelligence agent for Starfleet by focusing on the good things in his life. T'Kir ranked first and foremost amongst those. They'd been associated with each other for twelve years. Two of those years had been solely by vidcomm but they'd retained some measure of communication at least. They'd been dating for five years and engaged for three. Their wedding date was almost upon them and Macen was anxiously looking forward to that day.

Macen moved forward to the four men and one woman awaiting them as T'Kir set the _Mule_, and the cargo, down. She released the clamps after the cargo was squarely on the ground. She vaulted out of the _Mule_ and Rool and Drinkwater had to each suppress gasps.

T'Kir only stood in at 1.72 metres but she was imposing nonetheless, particularly to people only used to seeing Romulans and Rigellians express emotions, not Vulcans. What most sentients accomplished with a glare, T'Kir nailed with a smile. And she was beaming manically now.

Her attire was also startling for those used to typical Vulcans. Gone were the robes or tunic and trousers. T'Kir was bedecked in black leather pants and boots, her utility belt/holster rig, and a blood red tank top. Over this she wore a black leather duster.

T'Kir's features were exquisite. She possessed a heart-shaped face dominated by high cheekbones and bee-stung lips. Her vivid, crystalline blue eyes and her slightly upturned nose balanced her face. Added to this was her delicately pointed ears and her over the shoulder, wind-tossed raven hair.

If the mining officials thought she looked wild now, they should have met her twelve, or even six years before. T'Kir had been born and raised on the planet Shial. Situated near the Cardassian border, the planet was populated with Vulcan dissidents and Romulan defectors. It was the world where Vulcans went to express their feelings. It had been turned over to the Cardassians upon the finalisation of the DMZ borders.

The Cardassians wasted no time in launching an assault on the colony. They spared no one. The only survivors were those that were off-world at the time. T'Kir fell into this category. She was away at school when she received word of the massacre. She arranged transport and returned to the devastated colony.

T'Kir's entire family was dead. Her Vulcan kin disavowed her because of her emotionalism. She learned of the Maquis and she joined up. She was recruited into the cell on Ronara Prime, the same cell Ro Laren would eventually lead.

The trauma of her family's annihilation did more than set T'Kir on an unexpected path; it unleashed her latent telepathic potential. T'Kir went beyond the touch telepathy common amongst Vulcans. She became a true "reader", able to detect and decipher thoughts at a distance. The problem was that she had no training in how to block the thoughts she was receiving. The constant mental pressure began to manifest itself in erratic behaviour. Her very sanity was questioned.

Only T'Kir's skills with cybernetic systems and computer networks kept her from being cast out of the Maquis. As it was, Ro banished her to Macen's keeping. T'Kir found herself unable to read Macen's mind. He swiftly became her anchor to the world. Although Macen was involved with Lisea Danan at that time, he saw great potential in T'Kir and he was attracted to her.

T'Kir happily served beside Macen until the Dominion joined with the Cardassians and the hunt was on. The intense pressure of scores of her comrades-in-arms dying truly unhinged T'Kir. When Macen announced his intention to surrender to the Federation, T'Kir stabbed him with her stepfather's honour blade. She was sedated and restrained until she could be transferred to the _USS Vulcan's Forge_.

T'Kir was transported by a medical courier to Earth where she was admitted to the Andes Psychiatric Institute, a high security facility for treating the criminally insane. Despite the war, Macen kept tabs on T'Kir and her treatment. When the war was over and he needed and Operations officer for the gulag mission, he broke T'Kir out of the Institute. During the mission, he gave her an herbal remedy he'd found recommended in ancient Vulcan texts he'd studied when he had spare moments during the war and Maquis rebellion.

The herbal remedy dampened T'Kir's telepathic abilities to a point where she could control them. Her behaviour and affect gradually improved as the residual build-up of the herb increased. She'd progressed from a daily dose to a weekly dose with no signs of digression in sight.

During the Andergani operation, T'Kir confronted her feelings towards Macen and came to the realisation that with Danan now out of the way, she'd wait however long it took to snag Macen. Danan, herself, recommended that very course of action. Fortunately, it didn't take Macen long to come to a similar decision regarding his long stifled feelings. They'd been together ever since.

They'd become inseparable, in fact. Even when they were physically apart, they were connected through a permanent telepathic rapport. No one begrudged them their unnatural unity. It calmed them both. Macen was more stable and T'Kir was less capricious.

* * *

T'Kir was nearly vibrating in anticipation of the wedding. She'd been planning it for a year now and it was set to occur in a matter of days. She almost wished the raiders would show so she could shoot something and feel better from the release of adrenalin.

"So, now what?" T'Kir asked Macen.

"That all depends on these fine gentlemen." Macen replied, "I assume one of you is Rool and the other is Drinkwater?"

"I'm Franjean Rool." the shorter and squatter of the pair replied and clutched "his" lapels, "And as you may have noticed, I come from an androgynous species."

"And I'm Drinkwater." he, at least, held out his hand.

Macen accepted Drinkwater's proffered hand and shook it firmly, "Here's your payroll, gentlebeings. Our trip in was smooth." T'Kir snorted at that but Macen ignored her and continued unabated, "Perhaps your pirates will disappoint us all and stay home today."

Screams and the sound of badly tuned repulsorlifts erupted further down the street. The rolling sounds rapidly approached Macen and T'Kir's position.

Chagrined, Macen amended his last statement, "Or perhaps they'll join us after all." He turned to offer instructions to the mine officials and their security contingent. He was only partially surprised to find that they'd disappeared.

He looked over at T'Kir and rolled his eyes, "Well, I suppose we're on our own."

"When haven't we been?" she inquired.

_Too true_, he thought. The levibike riders had ridden up to their position and set their bikes into hover mode. One particularly nasty looking individual sat out in front of the others. His multi-scarred faced broke into a broken toothed leer.

"You must be the new 'security specialists'."

Macen looked around then faced the pirate, "I guess we must be it. I suppose you must be the leader of this motley crew?"

The pirate cackled, "That I am, son. They may not look like much but they do in a pinch."

"You'd better hope so." Macen said flatly.

The pirate captain shifted in his seat and shook his head, "You got more balls than brains, boy. I don't where you came from or what they taught you there, but your `rithmetic skills need some polishin'. I got nine to your two. I figure that gives me what you might call a 'tactical advantage'."

"And here I assumed it would get you a hole in your head." Macen retorted in that same flat tone. The pirate chieftain looked puzzled for a moment then a particle beam pulse bolt caught him in the side of the head. He fell off his levibike, a burn mark seared into his temple.

Macen's right hand tore his phaser out of its holster and he gunned down the closest raider. T'Kir already had her phaser pistol in her left hand and had levelled the first corsair to react to the opening firefight. Macen lunged forward and caught T'Kir. They dove behind the _Mule_ as disruptor fire rained down on their last position.

Another pulse blast rained down from on high and dropped another pirate. Then another. A third rider gunned his engine and tried to leave town. Rab Daggit rose from his prone position on the rooftops overhead and steadied himself on one knee. He switched his pulse rifle from single fire to rapid fire. He pulled the trigger and released a volley of phaser fire into the fleeing pirate. The three remaining criminals spread out and began shooting at anything that moved.

"Investigators, this is Inspector One. Remember, we need at least one alive." Macen said into his earpiece mike.

"Roger that." Daggit replied, "Inspector One, this is Inspector Two. I have no shots. I am repositioning now."

"Roger, Inspector Two, happy hunting. Inspector Three, ready for some action?"

"About damn time." Radil's voice growled back.

"Careful Jenrya. They're twitchy." Macen advised.

"Good."

Radil exited the tavern that she'd entered through the rear entrance. She carried a portable phaser cannon. It was a long barrelled Type III phaser bank. It possessed a butterfly handle with trigger and a foregrip to balance and elevate or plunge the cannon. It was mounted on a hinged belt and supported by straps running across the chest and over both shoulders. Two power cells were worn on the back, one active and the other a reserve. Radil wore sensor glasses to sight the cannon. Its sights appeared as a targeting brace in her vision.

One of the pirates saw Radil striding up the sidewalk lugging the cannon and he swiftly turned to engage her. Radil fired twice. The second shot proved unnecessary since the first caught him in the chest and knocked him flat. The second shot just served to alert his closest companion as it destroyed a section of the wall it struck. This raider saw Radil coming and ran out into the street. T'Kir saw him and shot him.

"I said _wound_ one!" Macen snarled and rose from his position behind the _Mule_. The last surviving pirate saw this and began to take aim at Macen. T'Kir opened her mouth to cry out in protest but never got a sound out.

Macen shot the levibike the pirate was hiding behind. The shower of sparks near his face startled him and he leapt clear of the bike. Macen shot him in the leg and he went down. Macen walked over to the downed pirate and kicked his weapon away from him.

"Was that really so difficult?" Macen asked mildly as Radil and T'Kir walked and ran up to his position. T'Kir punched him in the shoulder.

"What?" he protested.

"You insufferable ass!" T'Kir yelled, "We're getting married in four days. _Four _frinxing _days!_ And now you decide to have a death wish?"

"I wasn't in any real danger…" Macen gauged the anger behind her stare and amended his statement, "All right, I was in danger, but it was an acceptable risk."

"Brin, I'm as much of a risk taker as you, riskier maybe. But for Elements sake, don't get killed on the eve of my wedding. Except in very rare cases, Vulcans and Romulans marry once. I'd like to get my once."

Macen looked contrite, "I'm sorry. I should've realised."

"Yes." T'Kir agreed with a grin, "You should've."

He shook his head and broke into a wry grin. Radil interrupted his next thought, "There a round, little man headed for us."

"Try 'person'. Man is an inappropriate label." Macen warned.

"What the hell does that mean?" Radil demanded. T'Kir whispered into her ear and Radil's expression became one of surprise, "Then how do they…?"

T'Kir shrugged.

"Prophets help us," Radil muttered, "now I've heard of everything."

A pulse blast sailed by and everyone spun around to face the new threat. Instead, they faced Daggit as he strolled up the street towards them.

"Somebody better start minding the prisoner." he advised. The others all looked and saw their prisoner sitting before a slagged disruptor, blowing on his fingers.

"Good save, Rab." Macen congratulated the former commando.

"Captain Macen!" Rool called out and trotted over, "Congratulations! You've broken these pirates' backs."

"I hardly think so." Macen replied, "In fact, I think the fun has just begun." Macen held up a finger to silence Rool and began speaking to Riker over the comm channel, "Tom, have you been monitoring?"

"Yes, we have." Riker affirmed, "We can confirm that T'Kir's right, you are insufferable at times and that you were right, the pirates have a ship. She just passed overhead and is making to break orbit. We're heading up now to pursue them."

"Good luck and happy hunting." Macen replied then turned to Rool as the _Solstice _lifted off in the distance, "There are still pirates making to break orbit. My ship and crew have lifted off to deal with them."

"Don't they need you?" Rool sputtered.

"They'll manage." Macen assured him, "My XO is a better ship driver than I am."

"But…?"

Macen patted Rool's shoulder, "Come now. We're about to find out the magic question: are these independent operators or are they aligned with a larger syndicate?"

T'Kir cracked her knuckles and knelt beside the man, "Don't worry, this is going to hurt…a lot."

The pirate began to scream.


	2. Chapter 2

38

The _Solstice _clawed her way into the sky. She was at full impulse and steadily increasing speed as she threaded her way through the ion cloud created turbulence. She was also cloaked. Since she was not a Starfleet vessel, she was not treaty bound to abstain from cloaking technology.

"Cloak stable and holding." Riker reported from Tactical. With both Daggit and Radil off the ship, there were few free hands left aboard qualified to man the station. Riker was pulling double duty and commanding from Tactical.

The turbolift doors opened and Kort and Lisea Danan stepped out onto the bridge. Kort's eyes surveyed the bridge and went wide when he saw Riker manning Tactical.

"Commander, let me do that for you." Kort suggested.

Since Macen was the captain of the ship and Riker was his exec, it had been suggested, by Riker himself, that he be referred to by the title of "commander". In reality, he essentially commanded the shipboard operations aspects of the crew. Macen handled strategy and the Investigative team. Riker had no interest in the investigative side of the crew's charter and his strategic skills were constantly being honed.

His entire life had progressed since he'd joined Macen's crew, whether they are with the SID or not. Riker had been "born" during a transporter accident that created two William Thomas Rikers. One was safely transported back aboard the _USS Potemkin_ and the other rematerialised on the surface of Nervala IV. Tom was that other. Stranded on Nervala for eight years, Riker managed to survive despite the harsh conditions.

Rescued by the _USS Enterprise-D_, Riker found himself reunited with his twin and plunged into a soul searching exploration of his true self. Convinced he should remain in Starfleet, despite Starfleet's acceptance of his twin as the "original" Will Riker, Riker adopted the name of Thomas William Riker and transferred to the _USS Gandhi_. Riker managed to stay aboard the _Gandhi_ for a year before he tendered his resignation to Starfleet and enlisted in the Maquis.

Although involved in some minor raids after his recruitment, his penultimate contribution in the service of the Maquis was Riker's theft of the _USS Defiant_. Riker took her out and plunged deep into Cardassian territory. Pursuing forces followed her to a supposedly deserted system and discovered an entire shipyard operated by the Cardassian intelligence apparatus, in contrivance with Cardassian law.

Riker was arrested and tried by the Cardassians. His verdict and sentence set well in advance of the trial, Riker was sent to a labour camp. Riker toiled in the camp for two years before being liberated during a Romulan raid on the camp. Riker then became embroiled in a Romulan plot involving his twin. When all was said and done, he was his own man again and he struck out for the frontier.

When Macen found Riker, he was running his own charter shuttle service. Macen explained to Riker the nature of his enterprise and Riker eagerly joined up. Recruited as the captain of the Outbound Ventures' raider, _Eclipse_, Riker shared a joint command of the crew drawn along similar lines as what existed today. An entire ship's complement purely dedicated to the functioning of the _Eclipse _was also hired on.

The destruction of the _Eclipse _and the deaths of the secondary crew plunged Riker into the hands of Section 31. Subjected to a captivity that lasted nearly a year, Riker underwent a battery of tests to determine how to replicate the accident that "created" him in the first place. Escaping from his cell, Riker dispatched an SOS to Starfleet. Macen received word of this message and immediately set forth on a rescue mission.

Now that Riker was back in the fold, the command structure was altered to accommodate the fact that only the original SID team members were aboard. Riker was the Executive Officer and Macen was _the_ Captain. At first, this had been a bitter pill to swallow, especially in the face of Macen offering an independent command to Riker's lover, Jamie Kirk.

Riker and Kirk's relationship was a little rocky when it rekindled after their extended absences. In the end though, their mutual attraction and interests brought them back together. Over the last two years their relationship had blossomed to the point that Riker was considering making it a permanent arrangement. Riker had finally put the spectre of Deanna Troi behind him and moved on with his life.

His immediate problem now was Kort. Riker drew himself up to his full, imposing height of 1.93 metres. Although Riker was approaching his fifties, he was still physically fit and stayed that way with Daggit's assistance. The Angosian had also taught Riker some particularly nasty moves.

Like his twin, Riker wore a neatly trimmed beard only Tom wore it fuller in the face, not bordering next to the jaw line like _Will _Riker. His blue eyes often sparkled with puckish humour. His dark hair was becoming peppered with grey, as was his beard. Federation medical science had removed the scars Riker had received at the hands of the Cardassians but the memories still remained when he looked in the mirror.

* * *

_Focus on the problem at hand, _Riker chided himself, _Kort's the issue you need to deal with._

"Kort, the Tactical station is being adequately manned." Riker informed the Klingon doctor, "Thank you for your offer, but no."

"But Commander…!" Kort began to protest.

"Kort!" Riker snapped, "You're the ship's medic, not her weapon's officer."

Kort growled low in his throat. A savage glint lit his eyes and his hand hovered near his phaser.

"Don't even think about it." Grace warned, aiming her company issue Bajoran phaser in a two-handed grip.

Kort stared at her while Danan stepped clear of the potential shooting, "If you are focused on me, who's flying the ship?"

"The computer can handle it for a moment." Grace replied in a flinty voice, "That's all it'll take for me to cut you down."

Kort's eyes flicked to Riker. The XO also had his phaser drawn and aimed at Kort's general direction. Danan was pressed against the bulkhead and even her hand was now resting on her phaser's pistol grip. _So much for taking a hostage_, Kort mentally grumbled.

Kort's gun hand relaxed with a disgusted sigh from the disgruntled Klingon, "All right. I apologise."

Riker studied the volatile physician. Kort had always been the crew's most unstable member. Even taking into account Macen and T'Kir, Kort outweighed them because his instability was entirely voluntary. In the basest of terms, Kort was a falling down, drink `till you drop alcoholic.

Thus far, he'd managed to balance his duties and his passion for drink. In fact, he'd managed to curb the need for liquor while he'd been involved with Radil. That relationship had recently ended, and ended badly. The fact that Radil now seemed drawn towards Daggit's company while Kort was drawn towards a bottle hadn't helped.

Daggit's entire life had been a series of disappointments. Selected for medical studies rather than training as a warrior, Kort felt belittled. Excelling at the Klingon martial arts and proficient with the martial weapons, Kort established his place aboard every Klingon cruiser he served with through ritual combat. Although classified as a "Combat Medic", Kort was held in reserve, facing fire only to retrieve the wounded and treat them.

Kort grew so distinguished that he caught the eye of the Klingon Chancellor, Gowron. Gowron recruited Kort to be a medic in the Imperial Residence. In reality he was placed in charge of the Chancellor's Kennel. The shame of this posting drove Kort to heavy drinking. One eve, when he'd been summoned to treat Gowron's prized _targ_, Kort was so drunk that he botched the operation and killed the beast.

In a fit of pique, Gowron permanently banished Kort from the Empire. He no longer existed to any Klingon. Kort ambled about the Federation until he was found and contacted by Vice Admiral Alynna Nechayev, the Director of Starfleet Intelligence. She offered Kort an opportunity to contribute to the stability of the crumbling Federation-Klingon Alliance. A believer in the longstanding treaty between the two stellar powers, Kort accepted Nechayev's offer.

It was in her employ that he was assigned to the prototype _USS Odyssey_. Kort was immediately impressed with Brin Macen and agreed to follow him on his further adventures when the gulag mission ended. His battle with alcoholism became fiercer as the years, and the missions, wore on. Radil entered his life just when it appeared he was about to lose that fight. She'd staved off that final descent into the abyss. Now that she was gone, not even his sense of duty was keeping him from teetering on the brink.

Although Kort wasn't very imposing, topping out at 1.78 metres and tending towards the wiry side, his skills at unarmed combat were spectacular despite these visual disadvantages. Of the crew, only Daggit and T'Kir could successfully challenge him. The true scope of Parva's abilities was still unknown. With the Orion engineer at her post, that left the resultant standoff on the bridge. Life would remain pleasant so long as everyone remained out of Kort's reach but if anyone strayed into his grasp…the price could be horrific. This, however, was a potential gunfight and Kort's skill with a pistol was adequate at best.

"I have to start flying the ship in a minute and a half." Grace advised, "You have that long to decide on your next play. If you haven't decided by then, I'll simply shoot you and get on with my business."

Kort's gaze darted back and forth between Grace and Riker. Just seconds before Grace's deadline, Kort relaxed and his hand released the pistol grip of the surplus Militia phaser in his holster. He released a disgusted sigh and bellowed, "You may return to flying. I have been neutered like a craven tamed _targ_."

"Then you won't mind if I ask you to remove your phaser, place it on the deck and kick it over to Danan." Riker directed.

Kort defiantly glared at Riker for several seconds and then gingerly reached down and removed his phaser from its holster in thumb and forefinger grip. He tossed the weapon to Danan. She then kicked it further away to the OPS station and slowly backed away in that direction. Only after she'd arrived did she pick up the pistol.

"Now what do I do with this?" Danan hissed to Grace as she sat down at the neighbouring Ops console.

"Give it to me." Grace insisted, "Not to be rude but I'm stronger, faster, and better trained than you are. He's far less likely to get it from me than anyone else on this bridge."

Danan wanted argue but had to concede the point. Grace _was_ the most capable human she'd ever met…only she wasn't human, not in the strictest sense. Grace's ancestors were Kelvans. Born in the Andromeda galaxy, Grace's forbearers had travelled to the Milky Way to explore the galaxy and their race's chances of survival.

Upon passing through the energy barrier that surrounds the Milky Way, the Kelvans found themselves dying. They sought out the first native lifeforms they could find and emulated them. Fortunately, or unfortunately as the case may be, they encountered a group of human settlers. The Kelvans, conditioned by centuries of conquest and bred for war, did not simply replicate themselves into human beings. They improved on the human genome.

In a fashion reminiscent of the genetic engineering projects of the late 20th century, the Kelvans "purified" the genetic stew that now comprised them. Grace was an example of a physically "perfect" human. Paired with an intellectual prowess that could stagger a Vulcan, her various attributes contributed to her close ties with T'Kir and Daggit. In T'Kir's case, it also had a lot to do with similar levels of emotional maturity.

Grace had just reached the cusp of turning thirty. Her brown eyes were rich and lively. Her golden hair was worn short, just reaching her jawline. She wore it pulled back by a hairband or a clip.

Danan had to consider her own looks in comparison. Like most Trills, she bore the brown spots that indicated the majority of her species. Like a select few, Lisea carried an invertebrate symbiot in a pouch in her stomach. She and the Danan symbiot shared a dual consciousness. This was largely through her ability to access the memories of all of Danan's previous hosts.

Lisea had confronted the effect the symbiot, and its warehouse of memories, had upon her. The host prior to Lisea had been a career Starfleet Intelligence officer. Her influence had prompted Lisea to enlist and undergo the Officer's Candidate School after completing her third doctorate in astrophysics. This host had also been a factor when it came to a certain Brin Macen.

Macen was hitching a ride aboard the survey ship Danan served aboard as it travelled out near the Cardassian border. Danan's prior host had known Macen, had worked alongside him for decades in fact, all without ever revealing to him that she'd fallen in love with him. Lisea, fresh from a heartbreak after receiving the Danan symbiot, fell hard and fast.

It was only after Lisea Danan volunteered to work for Starfleet Intelligence as an analyst and later as Macen's partner in an infiltration of the Maquis that she discovered for herself that her motives weren't what she'd thought they were. Separated over the course of the Dominion War, Danan had time to sort some things out for herself.

Reunited with Macen for the gulag mission, Danan finally confronted her confused feelings regarding Macen. She left the SID and joined the Daystrom Institute. She stayed with them until the hostage situation on Magna Roma caused her to be reunited with Macen and the others. She rejoined the crew found herself once again attracted to Macen, only this time he wasn't available. He'd chosen T'Kir over her, and always had.

What wasn't there to like? She changed her hair colour from chestnut brown to blonde. Her sea green eyes were vivacious and sparkled with life. Her lips were full and her nose pert. Any man would be lucky to have her. So, where were they?

_It doesn't matter anyway,_ Danan sighed, _It's been so long, I wouldn't know what to do with anything that didn't operate on batteries._

* * *

"Heads up people," Grace's voice snapped everyone out of their various reveries, "we're free of the ionic interference."

"Run a full sensor sweep." Riker ordered, "I want those bastards found."

"Won't we run the risk of being detected?" Danan asked.

"They'll know they've been scanned, but not by whom or from where." Riker grinned, "It will enable us to pinpoint their exact position and have added bonus of scaring the ever-loving crap out of them."

"They might bolt." Grace warned.

Riker cracked his knuckles, "I'm in the mood for a good race today."

* * *

Back on Corbal, T'Kir finished her psychic probe of the prisoner. He'd stopped screaming and was just muttering gibberish now. She and Macen conferred for several minutes then Macen approached Rool.

"Your worst fears have just been confirmed." Macen informed the mine owner, "They're not independent. They belong to the Orion Syndicate. Not just the Syndicate but also the portion of it controlled by Adrya Jeklan. Adrya is a particularly nasty individual. You see, he's a survivor of both the Bajoran camps and Resistance. He's been captured and interrogated by the Cardassians on several occasions, and in the process mastered many, if not all, of their techniques."

"As the fighting ground on and the Cardassians prepared to withdraw, the Resistance dispatched dozens of volunteers to serve as mercenaries to raise capital funds for the movement back home. Adrya found himself in the employ of a very receptive Orion Syndicate." Radil bristled as Macen continued his story, "As time passed, Adrya continually received promotions within the organisation until he reached the level of Regional Manager, where he is today. He controls the movements and activities of the Syndicate stretching across from _DS9_ to _DS3_. In short, he is a violent man with an evil imagination that will be seeking revenge. You need to prepare."

"We'll hire you!" Rool caught hold of Macen's shirt and held it in a death grip, "We'll pay whatever you ask."

"That's very generous, gentleperson. Rool." Macen pried the diminutive alien's hands of him, "But you'll have to contact our office and negotiate a contract."

"But I…I mean 'we'll' want you. After your fine performance here today, the other mine owners and myself will insist that you handle the matter personally."

"That's very flattering but you're not seeing the big picture here." Macen informed him, "You've contracted with Outbound Ventures, the _corporation_, not a specific ship or crew. Assignments are handed out according to availability and captain's preference."

Macen gave Rool a pitying look, "While I would love to be able to assist you, my crew and I are already booked over the next several weeks. I'm sorry but our firm _can _provide you with a competent captain and crew to deal with this situation."

"Wonderful." Rool grumbled, "So what's so important that it warrants your attention next?"

"My wedding." Macen answered, "And then some leave time for the crew while my bride and I honeymoon."

"Congratulations." Rool mumbled miserably.

Macen decided not to rub it in with a "thank you", instead he asked Radil, "Anyone here you recognise?"

Radil, who'd been of those Bajoran Resistance fighters loaned out as mercenaries, shook her head, "No one I recognise from my time with the Syndicate."

"Good." Macen replied, "That means our surviving friend here can't identify you."

Radil frowned at that thought. She began to turn and take aim at the prisoner being carried away by the local "security" forces.

"Jenrya." Macen warned.

Radil's mouth puckered and she relaxed with a heavy sigh. She'd lived with an Orion death mark for five years now. Ever since Daggit had inadvertently "kidnapped" her from a Syndicate stronghold, the organisation had put a bounty on her head. For a time, she hid by having her distinctive nasal ridges removed to appear human. When the crew became truly independent operators, Radil had opted to undergo surgery again and have her face restored to its natural configuration. Ever since that time, every encounter with the Syndicate had been fraught with danger.

Radil herself, although striking, was not a typical eye-catcher. Her years of living under the Cardassian yoke had taught her to hide and blend into the background. Despite being fairly tall for a Bajoran woman, measuring in at 1.78 metres, her close-cropped auburn hair was what most people noted about her and left it at that. Even her distinctively Bajoran nasal ridges and earring were commonplace enough now to avoid scrutiny.

Daggit, on the other hand, drew attention by merely breathing. He stood at a towering 1.93 metres and possessed the musculature of a professional weightlifter. Daggit was an Angosian. He'd been among those poor souls that volunteered for the super-soldier program during his planet's war with nearby Tarsus.

The psychological and physiological conditioning the Angosian scientists had done to him performed better than expected. When threatened or seeking to achieve an objective, Daggit was a ruthless killing machine. Unlike a machine though, the only "off" switch for Daggit was the extermination of his perceived foes. It made the man want to weep but he was denied even that comfort during these "exercises".

Everything about Daggit was chiselled, from his rippling pectorals to his features. His sandy hair was peppered with grey, a testament to both his years and his experiences. The lines on his careworn face bespoke of pains unspoken. Daggit was a man of instant action while in combat but in moments of peace, he appreciated the beauty of a tranquil moment.

Daggit quietly approached Macen, "I'll talk with her."

Macen nodded his consent. Rab had always been protective of Radil. The truth be told, he'd been smitten with her since the day they met. Over the years, they'd developed a bond but over the last six months, ever since Radil and Kort had separated…

A jolt from his empathic senses surprised him. He was glad he kept his shields up normally. If even a low level empathy like himself was startled by the consuming passions underlying the exchanges of these two, then what must it be like for someone like T'Kir?

_Glad you could spare me a thought, _T'Kir thoughtcast before adding from his side, "For some great super spy, you've been awfully slow on the uptake with these two."

Macen looked wounded, "I'll have you know I have been busy putting our little business together. Now that it's finally running itself and all the people are in place, I can relax and put my focus elsewhere."

"Does this mean you're gonna _frinx _my brains out tonight?" T'Kir asked, wearing a playfully coy smile.

"Fates, woman!" Macen shook his head, "D'you _ever _think of anything else?"

T'Kir shrugged, "Sure, but sex is more fun. So, are you up for it?"

"You'll note that I haven't said 'no' yet."

"Good!" T'Kir exclaimed, "I have a hot date for tonight!"

Macen gave her a wry look, "You'll also note I haven't said 'yes' yet either. The day's note over and a lot of _shuk _can still happen."

"I hate it when you point out the facts." T'Kir pouted.

* * *

"They're headed out of the system but they haven't gone to warp yet." Danan reported.

"They're probably still trying contact their raiding party." Riker commented, "I'm intercepting a slew of messages across the subspace bandwidths."

"Have you tried opening them?" Kort asked derisively.

"Yes." Riker replied with strained patience, "They're encrypted. I've sent them to OPS for decryption but Danan is busy. Is there anything else on your mind?"

Kort opened his mouth to speak but Riker cut him off, "I didn't think so. Why don't you wait this one out in Sickbay? We'll call you if something happens and you're needed."

Kort bristled but stifled any obvious retorts. With one last vindictive glance around the bridge, he proceeded to the turbolift and disappeared when its doors closed. Danan shook her head sadly.

"You know he'll be headed for the drink replicator in the lounge." Danan commented.

"One crisis at a time." Riker counselled, "Hannah, place us in their six. I want a clear shot at their aft quarter."

"You got it." Grace replied and got busy. Under her direction, the _Solstice _surged forward in space. It took twenty-three tension filled minutes for the scoutship to slip in behind the pirates' raider.

The raider was a converted freighter. Its captain had installed disruptor banks and additional shield generators at the expense of hold space. It was a relatively small hull, thus accommodating its atmospheric capabilities. It had an unusual design, implementing a larger rectangular box-like shape interconnected to a smaller "head" by a cylindrical "throat". The larger cargo module possessed "feet" in the form of four landing pads and two warp nacelles stretched out from the hull like wings.

The _Solstice _slipped in behind the fleeing pirate ship and decelerated. The raider was fast for a civilian craft but was no match for the military grade engines the _Blackbird_-class scout was equipped with. She held position there for a moment while Riker locked his weapons onto their targets. Then the moment of truth had arrived.

"Standby to decloak." Riker announced, "Decloaking now. Firing at will!"

Two photon torpedoes burst forth from the "nose" of the _Solstice's _saucer section. These struck the impulse engines of the raider. The pirate's shields deflected some of the cataclysmic fire being rained down upon them but not enough and with the second torpedo volley that followed the first, the shields collapsed. Phaser fire lanced out from the scoutship's weapons arrays and cut through the raider's hull.

The pirate ship began to slow as her engines died. She lost main power and most of her running lights went dead. She'd got off one wild shot off at the _Solstice _that Grace had evaded. Now she ballistically drifted and awaited her fate.

"Please stop." a female voice pleaded over the comm, "We can't take any more."

"This Commander Thomas Riker of the _SS Solstice_ to any all pirate forces aboard," Riker replied, "Surrender or be destroyed."

"We surrender." the woman confirmed, "Take what you want but let us live."

"We'll take you in tow." Riker pronounced, "You'll be handed over to the authorities on Corbal. You're fate will rest in their hands."

"Nooooo." the woman whimpered.

"That's your choice." Riker said harshly, "Take or leave it right here."

"Fine." The woman snapped, "We're leaving it!"

"Commander!" Danan exclaimed, "They've re-ignited their warp core. Their intermix chambers destroyed. The reaction's going to run wild and…"

The viewer displayed the final fate of the raider as it detonated. The _Solstice's _shields briefly wavered as the force of the explosion washed over them. In the end, they held, as did the lives of the crew. The pirates' last act of vengeance had failed.

"Hannah, set course for Corbal." Riker said in a muted tone, "Let's pick up the rest of the crew and get out of this system."

"Yes sir." Grace replied numbly. What had been a victorious moment had been snatched away from them. Although prepared to defend themselves, the _Solstice_ crew had never sought the destruction of the pirates. The goal had been to apprehend them so they could stand trial…not this. It had been a sobering day and its effects would be felt for some time to come.


	3. Chapter 3

54

The _Solstice_ came to rest on Corbal V's arid, sun baked soil. The landing thrusters kicked up a dust storm as the scoutship settled down. The _Mule_ waited in the distance while the dust settled down.

As the dirt settled, T'Kir guided the Work Drone to the underside of the portside shuttlebay. The hangar doors opened and T'Kir redirected the repulsorlifts thrust to vertical ascension. The _Mule_ slowly, but steadily, rose to the awaiting shuttlebay and slipped inside of it. Grace closed the shuttlebay doors and T'Kir throttled down and redirected part of her thrust for forward motion.

T'Kir yanked the _Mule's _control yoke hard to starboard and turned the Work Drone sideways in the rear of the shuttlebay. Grace manipulated the tractor beam controls and lowered the diminutive shuttle stored in the bay. There was only a metre of clearance between the shuttle and the parked _Mule_. It was just enough clearance to manoeuvre between the vehicles and to get the _Mule _off of the hangar space's retracting doors.

Although repressurisation of the bay was not required, the air was cycled through the atmospheric scrubbers to ensure that no contaminates had been brought aboard from the exposure of opening the bay doors inside the planet's biosphere. Macen and the others had been subjected to a broad spectrum of inoculations before embarking on their mission. If they came down with any ailments, they would be outside the medicinal knowledge of the Federation and the Klingon Empire.

The mining consortium that had hired Outbound Ventures had provided a full medical profile of the planet and its inhabitants. If the team contracted anything, the consortium would be liable for their care and treatment. It was all part of the standard arrangement Outbound Ventures entered into with any client. Such arrangements were designed to protect both parties entering into the contract.

The double airlock doors connecting the shuttlebay with the deck's main corridor cycled and opened. Tom Riker stood in the corridor, awaiting the returning team. Riker was taciturn and withdrawn. Combined with the apparent lack of prisoners, Macen assumed the worst.

"I take it there are no prisoners to speak of." Macen said as he joined Riker in the passageway. The two began walking down the corridor towards the turbolift. T'Kir remained behind to speak with Grace. Daggit and Radil proceeded straight for the armoury.

As the turbolift doors closed behind them, Riker sighed, "I tried. I really tried. They just didn't want to be taken alive. They were more intent on trying to take us out with them then on options for survival."

Macen offered Riker a humourless smile, "Not surprising considering who their boss is."

"And that would be?"

"Adrya Jeklan." Macen replied.

"You say that as though I should know the name." Riker retorted.

"It's a name you should pay attention to." Macen advised, "He was prominently mentioned in several of the sector criminal reports I gave you that Ro passed on to me. The Orion Syndicate operates under its own code of conduct. Adrya Jeklan goes one step further and operates under his own set of mores apart from the Syndicate's. If you violate that set of business 'ethics', Adrya transforms himself from benefactor to merciless persecutor."

"Sounds like a cheery individual." Riker commented dryly.

"Adrya _is_ manically cheerful _until_ he's crossed. Then he becomes death incarnate." Macen warned, "And it won't be a quick death. It will last days, weeks even if he can arrange it. It will strip away every notion you had about pain. You'll discover things about yourself and what you can endure under his tutelage."

The turbolift doors opened and the pair exited. They proceeded down the length of Deck 2 until they reached Macen's office. It was adjacent to his and T'Kir's quarters. The layout and design had been adapted from the Executive Officer's office on the _Intrepid_-class starships.

Macen took a seat behind the desk and Riker sat down in the chair across from the Captain's desk. Macen leaned forward and folded his hands together, "Anything else interesting happen?"

Riker looked pained, "Now that you mention it, we need to find help for Kort. He…"

When Riker had concluded, it was Macen's turn to look pained, "I guess it's finally time for an intervention. When we get back to Barrinor, we'll book Kort into a rehab facility."

Riker whistled and shook his head, "He won't like it."

"If he wants to remain a member of this crew, then he'll comply." Macen said firmly, "He can either sober up or be cut loose."

"Some might see that as being a tad harsh." Riker pointed out.

"Let them." Macen retorted angrily, "I'm not going to risk the crews' lives by handing them over to a drunk. If he can't control himself, we'll control him. If that fails, then he's gone."

"Okay." Riker nodded, "As XO, it's my responsibility to oversee personnel matters. I'll head up to the briefing room and take care of this one."

"Thanks Tom." Macen said with a genuine smile, "If Kort gives you any trouble, send him to me."

"No problem." Riker chuckled.

* * *

"So, have you picked a date for my wedding yet?" T'Kir asked as she and Grace exited the shuttlebay control booth. Grace stopped outside the shuttlebay, lingering in the corridor.

"I'm still debating between Willem Davidson and Thoren Jasik." Grace admitted.

"Hannah!" T'Kir snapped, "You're honestly thinking about bringing 'Wild Dog' Davidson to my nuptials?"

"Only the Maquis referred to him as 'Wild Dog". On Captain Kirk's ship he goes by 'Will'." Grace informed her.

"I don't care if he goes by 'Xena, Warrior Princess', he's not coming to my wedding." T'Kir shouted.

"And why not?" Grace shouted back.

"Because if you must know, we had a 'thing'." T'Kir confessed through clenched teeth.

"What kind of 'thing'?" Grace demanded.

"A one night stand kind of 'thing'." T'Kir replied, then upon assessing Grace's dubious glare, amended her admission to include, "All right, so it was more of a four night 'thing'."

"And you did this because…?"

"Brin was unavailable." T'Kir stressed, "And second, although he's well seasoned with age, Wild Dog was still _frinxing_ hot ten years ago!"

"So," Grace looked thoughtful, "you either don't want me to bring him along because you still secretly carry a torch for this guy, and you're afraid you'll say 'I don't' instead of 'I do", or there's a deeper, more sinister reason you'd rather he not be there."

"Can't I just admit to the 'more sinister' part and leave it at that?" T'Kir pleaded.

"No, you can't" Grace decreed, "Now give."

"All right." T'Kir sighed, "Just remember though, everything I'm about to tell you is a result of when I couldn't control my psi abilities."

"Go on." Grace began to growl.

"I had a tendency to place a psychic 'hook' in the minds of my sexual partners." T'Kir explained, "It was hardly even intentional. It was just a side effect of the close proximity and the intimacy, both physical and mental, that I shared with my momentary partner. It usually took a bedmate a few days to stop 'seeing stars' in my wake."

"So?" Grace asked, "It's been close to ten years since Wild Dog was in the Maquis. It has to have been at least that long since he slept with you."

"Ah," T'Kir held up a warning finger, "you're forgetting the 'hook'."

"All right." Grace did growl this time, "What's the damned hook?"

"The hook is a telepathically implanted post-hypnotic suggestion." T'Kir revealed, "It has a tendency to leave my…er…'victims' highly susceptible to any and all demands I might make."

"So you're saying my boyfriend is some kind of Vulcan love slave?" Grace cried out, "Maker! It's like some crappy Ferengi pornographic holoprogram."

"He's not my _frinxing _love slave!" T'Kir shouted back, gripping Grace by the shoulders, "I'm not even sure of the long term effects of my telepathy. For Elements' sake, he could be over it by now! It's been long enough."

Grace composed herself, "You're right, T'Kir. I overreacted."

"Glad we both think so." T'Kir said with a puckered mouth and a frown.

"I should get to the bridge." Grace insisted suddenly, "We'll be taking off soon."

"I'll see you there in a few." T'Kir assured her.

"Yah." Grace replied without enthusiasm, "I'll see you then."

_Seven Hells, _T'Kir thought bitterly, _Now I've gone and _frinxed _up my relationship with my best friend._

* * *

"…and then she walked off and got into the turbolift and left me standing there." T'Kir complained.

"Do you really blame her?" Macen asked, leaning back in his office chair, "That was quite the bombshell you levelled her with."

"I told you the same thing and you're doing fine." T'Kir grumped. She was curled up, cat-like on the small couch in the office's corner. She propped her head up on her hand and suggested, "What if you had a talk with her?"

"Okay," Macen sighed heavily, "first off, I already suspected what effects intimacy with you had upon the unsuspecting. Second, Hannah needs to deal with this on her own. Let her cope and then approach her. You're a telepath. You'll know when the time is right."

"You know Hannah's as hard for me to read as you are, without the benefit of our rapport, of course."

"Then you'll have to do it like the average humanoid." Macen counselled, "Make a guess."

"That sucks."

"Yup."

* * *

Daggit and Radil finished putting the last of the partially spent powercells on the chargers. Radil had sought out Macen and T'Kir and retrieved the powerpacks from their sidearms. T'Kir had seemed distracted, but then again, when didn't she? The only time Radil had seen T'Kir totally focused was in the middle of a fight or when she was immersed in a challenge on the computer.

It had always been a mystery to Radil how Macen could put up with T'Kir's antics. _Then again, _she supposed, _I guess love makes one blind. I'm a case in point. First I fell for a wreck like Kort and now I'm attracted to Rab Daggit. "Attracted", hell, I'm smitten with the man. In fact, I'm knee deep in smit._

Radil knew Daggit had been attracted to her since the day they'd met. She didn't know why she just didn't discuss her feelings with him. She tasted the lie behind that belief even as she rehashed it in her mind. She was ashamed that she hadn't come to this conclusion earlier. She'd faced a choice between Daggit and Kort three years ago and she'd chosen the Klingon. She feared her earlier decision would haunt her and Daggit would repay her in kind if given the opportunity.

_I know he wouldn't, _Radil assured herself, _but they do call certain fears "irrational" for a reason._

"I guess we're all done here." Daggit's deep baritone cut through her reflections. Feeling rather adrift, Radil asked, "We are?"

Daggit responded with a puzzled look, "We've returned everything to its place and placed all the cells on their chargers. I'd say we're done, wouldn't you?"

"I…I don't know." Radil struggled to find her words, "We could always discuss…us."

Wariness crept into his tone and features, "I know there's a 'you' and I know all about 'me', but I don't know anything about an 'us'."

"I know." she hesitantly replied, "But there could be. I know you've thought about it. So have I. In fact, it's the main reason I ended my relationship with Kort. It wasn't going anywhere. He couldn't stop drinking and I couldn't stop thinking about you."

"You've hidden it awfully well." Daggit commented.

"You're my working partner." Radil explained, "I can't jeopardise that. We rely on each other in life or death situations. I couldn't risk having a distraction or a disagreement between us."

"So why are you telling me this now?" the wariness had returned to Daggit's voice and eyes.

"Quite frankly, I have to know if 'we' can ever happen, or I'll go insane." Radil admitted, "With the Captain and T'Kir's wedding coming up and all of us getting some leave time, it's a perfect time to think about unresolved issues. I know you carried a torch for me for three years until I joined up with Kort. That was my mistake."

"In short," Radil summarized, "all I'm asking of you is word on whether or not we stand a chance of getting together."

"Is there a deadline?" he asked stiffly.

Quietly, Radil answered, "Sooner is always better." she offered up a wan smile, "But I'm not expecting anything until our leave is over."

Daggit nodded, "I'll have an answer by then. He started to walk away but stopped, "I'd like to say 'yes', but a lot has happened over the last three years. To be honest, I'd given up any hopes of this moment ever happening. Now that it has, I honestly don't know what I'll decide. I just thought you should know."

With that said, he exited the armoury. Radil sniffled and fought back tears. She'd never been so emotionally wrung out before. _Just three more weeks,_ she consoled herself, _in three weeks I'll know the answer to my prayers and I can move on with my life, one way or the other. That's all I can ask of the Prophets._ Feeling bolstered, she wiped the moisture from her eyes and followed in Daggit's wake.

* * *

"T'Kir, please report to the bridge." Riker's voice requested over the office's intercom.

"_Frinx_!" T'Kir snapped, "Why does that jackass want me on the bridge every time we take off?"

"It _is _standard procedure." Macen gently reminded her, "If something were to go wrong with the main computer or the operational systems, you're the best qualified to deal with the situation."

"So, in other words," T'Kir grumped, "I shouldn't have been so good at my job as to make m'self invaluable."

Macen's grin bordered on being a smirk, "Something like that."

"All right! I'll go." T'Kir conceded, "But if I have to make an appearance, you'd better come with."

Macen rose from behind the desk, "I was thinking about observing the take-off anyway."

"Anything to avoid after action reports for the agency and the client?" T'Kir cocked an eyebrow at him.

Macen sighed, "Tom may want the Captain's title and responsibilities but he should be grateful I've given him the rewarding part, the actual commanding the ship, without all the paperwork that goes with it."

"You poor dear." T'Kir cooed.

"Oh, shut up."

T'Kir laughed and led the way out of his office.

* * *

On the bridge, Riker sat in the command chair, centred amidst the hubbub of the bridge. Grace was running her pre-flight checks. Daggit was inspecting the weapons systems and running targeting diagnostics. T'Kir and Macen exited the turbolift and immediately set to work. T'Kir sat down at Ops and Macen took his customary position at InfoSys.

"T'Kir, are all external hatches closed and sealed?" Riker asked.

"Hatches are closed." T'Kir confirmed, "We have green telltales on all seals."

"Excellent." Riker commended, "Please activate all running lights and our ID transponder."

"You got it."

Riker winced. He'd wanted to enforce a greater degree of formality and protocol throughout the ship but Macen had disagreed. Although just over half the crew had a Starfleet background, the remainder did not. Macen saw no reason to impose Starfleet style regulations on individuals that had never desired to enlist in Starfleet. More to the point, they weren't a Starfleet vessel so why couldn't they be more relaxed? Riker deferred of course. Macen was his superior officer, and ultimately, his employer.

"Very well. Hannah, engage the bow thrusters and take us up." Riker ordered.

"Bow thrusters, aye." Grace replied. Riker practically glowed with paternalistic pride. The ship shuddered and for a moment felt as though she were listing. The inertial dampeners were dialled practically to zero for atmospheric operation, as was the artificial gravity.

"Sorry `bout that." Grace called out, "We've reached a height of 300 metres. We've been cleared by local traffic control to engage impulse engines."

"Engage." Riker directed.

Grace brought the two powerful plasma drivers to life and the ship surged forward. She also utilised the bow and manoeuvring thrusters to gain altitude as she went forward. They sped away in the opposite direction from the mining camp. Grace gently guided the _Solstice _over the rising peaks of a mountain range. She then went vertical. The artificial gravity and the inertial dampener came to life at her command just moments before she nosed the starship upwards. Moments later they broke out of the atmosphere and its accompanying ionic interference.

Riker activated the intercom to Engineering, "Parva, prepare to inject the nacelles with warp plasma."

"Ready when you are." Parva replied.

Of all the crew, Riker reflected, Parva was the most mysterious. Of course, she'd only been with the team the last three years, ever since Hal Dracas had gone away on sabbatical. The statuesque Orion was a rarity. An escaped slave who'd learned a trade and learned it well enough to earn Dracas' own recommendation. She rarely spoke of her past and even then only in the most oblique of terms. Dracas knew her story but the taciturn Troglyte had withheld it before leaving.

"Inject plasma at will." Riker commanded.

There was a pause on Parva's end, and then, "Plasma injected and stable. Warp speed available at your command."

"Roger that, standby for warp speed." Riker responded, "Hannah, plot a least time course to Barrinor and execute at warp 6."

"Aye, sir" Grace crisply replied.

"Did you hear that Parva?" Riker inquired.

"I'm ready and rarin'." the emerald engineer sounded back.

Riker chuckled, "Glad to hear it. Hannah?"

"Executing…now." the starfield on the viewer became a miasma of colour then stabilised into a field of passing, starlit streaks.

* * *

Although settled by colonists from across the Federation, Barrinor was an independent world. A planetary plebiscite taken before the Dominion War had announced the planet's intentions of pursuing an independent existence. The Federation, preoccupied with the Dominion's intentions, easily let the colony slip from its grasp. Barrinor spent most of the war untouched by the Dominion forces. It wasn't until a Breen scouting party entered the sector that Barrinor and its neighbouring settlements entered the fray.

The repulsed Breen shifted focus and concentrated on Cardassian space and the massed forces gathered at _Deep Space 9_. Barrinor and its confederates were spared any more conflict. When Macen approached the government on Barrinor with headquartering Outbound Ventures on their planet, they leapt at the chance. Barrinor itself became a client of Outbound Ventures, placing a reasonable retainer in the firm's coffers in exchange for accepting the occasional, discreet assignment.

Outbound Ventures' expansion had greatly benefited Barrinor. More traffic came to the spaceport, more outside venture capital was being injected into the economy, and the local shipyards and moorage collected greater fees. Since Barrinor still relied upon a currency driven economy, all of these developments were vital for expansion and development.

Given the prestige given to Macen by the government, business, and security officials, it was only natural that they were treating his upcoming marriage to T'Kir as a celebrity event. Macen had managed to restrict the guest list to merely those invited by the bride and groom, but that list had doubled in size due to the public's curiosity. Newsfeed cameras were also going to be on hand. It was an idea that infuriated Macen but delighted T'Kir. In the end, he relented for her sake.

Two days before the wedding, T'Kir found out about a problem with the wedding gown: it was missing! T'Kir had chosen a dressmaker on Bajor for the tailoring. The seamstress boasted she could sew any pattern or design at half the cost of her nearest competitor. Desiring to support "local" talent, and Bajor was in the neighbouring sector, T'Kir hired the woman and designed a customised dress that blended Vulcan and Romulan elements.

Upon receiving word that the dress was missing, T'Kir contacted Ro Laren. T'Kir's former Maquis cell commander was now a Starfleet Security officer. Ro was an invited guest to the wedding and an important one since she also had a role to play in it.

"Ro, you've got to find it." T'Kir insisted.

"Find what?" a confused Ro asked.

"My _frinxing _wedding gown, that's what!" T'Kir demanded.

"Calm down." Ro ordered, "Tell me what's happened."

T'Kir did and Ro nodded, "I'll start my leave a day earlier and travel to Bajor, all right?"

T'Kir nodded, "Thanks Laren."

The comm screen returned to the UFP symbol and Ro shook her head, "What a mess."

* * *

The shuttle landed at the main concourse of the spaceport. T'Kir fidgeted as she waited for Ro to exit the craft. A dozen or so passengers exited and then no one. Macen squeezed T'Kir's shoulders to settle her down. Suddenly, Ro appeared and she carried a garment bag.

"Never say I wasn't there for you." she grinned. T'Kir embraced the Bajoran woman and squeezed. Ro exhaled as the air was pushed from her crushed ribs and lungs. Macen intervened.

"Break it up." he urged, "She can't breathe. T'Kir, we need her for the ceremony tomorrow."

A chagrined T'Kir let go and Ro grinned again, "A little excited are you?"

T'Kir fervently nodded and Ro laughed with delight, "Good. Take care of my boy here."

"'Boy'?" Macen repeated scornfully, "Who was your superior officer and got you into Advanced Tactical Training?"

"All in the past." Ro waved his objections aside, "Ever since we were in the Maquis, you've been my 'boy', just as she was my 'girl'. Now, you're together and about to take the plunge. I never thought it would happen but I'm happy it did. I'm here to support you both and I'm honoured to be part of this ceremony."

"Thanks Laren." Macen replied with a thick voice, "That means a lot coming from you."

"It's the least I can do after all you two gave for me." Ro replied.

"Just keep thinking that tomorrow when this finally happens." T'Kir instructed.

"I'll keep that in mind." Ro murmured.

"Keep the faith, Laren." Macen suggested, "This event has been planned for down to the last minute detail."

"Great." Ro groused, "More to get _frinxed_ up."

"I see your optimistic spirit remains untouched." Macen smirked.

"Laugh it up." Ro remarked, "But mark my words, something bad will happen tomorrow."

"Only your attitude." T'Kir retorted.

"Just wait." Ro warned, "You'll see I'm right. No event can ever be perfect."

"No." Macen conceded, "But we plan on being pretty close."

"Good luck." Ro rejoined.

"Fine." Macen sighed, "C'mon, let's get out of here. We have the guest room all made up for you, the replicator's fully programmed, and the cryo is fully stocked."

"Sounds good." Ro admitted, "Anything with a bed involved sounds better."

Macen smiled, "Then we've just the place for you."


	4. Chapter 4

64

The day of the wedding had arrived. The rehearsal had gone smoothly the night before and all seemed to be prepared for. The decorations were immaculate and the seating was all arranged. The caterers and servers were prepared and awaiting their cues.

The ceremony was taking place outside in Founder's Park on Barrinor. Macen and T'Kir originally sought permission to marry on Ronara Prime. The Cardassian government, although a moderate, democratically elected regime, would not allow foreign nationals, particularly former Maquis rebels, to hold a memorial much less a wedding. Over the years, Barrinor had become a second home. Now with this event, they would inaugurate it _as_ their home. It took a special, difficult to obtain, permit to host an event here. Their presence bespoke of the government's regard for them.

The guest list reflected the variety of their associations. Starfleet admirals, former Maquis guerrillas, Barrinoran dignitaries, and Outbound Ventures employees all ranked amongst the attendees. The admirals attended solely on Macen's good graces. The last three years had softened his anger towards the two flag officers in question.

Admirals Alynna Nechayev and Amanda Drake had braved an uncertain reception in order to attend. Nechayev was the current Director of Starfleet Intelligence and a decades long associate of Macen. Drake commanded the SID and consequently Macen and his crew during their tenure with that organisation. They had collaborated on the manipulation that led to the irregulars' dismissal from the SID.

Drake and Nechayev's actions stemmed from a fervent desire to recover the kidnapped President's daughter. The dismissal of Macen and the other captains and crews had come as a shock to the two bureaucratically beleaguered admirals. Drake had spent the last three years trying to rebuild her agency. She'd lost the core of her undercover corps and it hurt her operational capabilities.

They'd both been surprised to receive invitations. Macen had only maintained limited communication in the ensuing years and this could be interpreted as the first step in a reconciliation. It was a step neither could afford to let slip by.

Various Outbound Ventures crewmen assumed the role of ushers and escorted the arriving dignitaries to their assigned seats. Macen's crew had front row seating. Kort was conspicuously absent from the assembled group. He'd sullenly accepted his admission to the treatment centre only after Macen threatened to personally escort him there at gunpoint.

Riker sat with Jamie Kirk. The former Iotian Starfleet captain had become one of the most skilled commanders in the Outbound Ventures "fleet". Their romance had blossomed after their reunion three years ago. Speculation was already flying on how long it would take the star-crossed couple to emulate Macen and T'Kir.

Daggit, Danan, and Radil sat together. Danan sat between Daggit and Radil. It was a turn of events both the Angosian and the Bajoran were grateful for. Too much still lay unspoken between them.

Grace sat with her date, Willem "Wild Dog" Davidson. Her original inclination to bring Thoren Jasik but she _had _to know how Wild Dog would react to T'Kir. _Gah! _she thought, _Now she has me calling him "Wild Dog". I know its probably wrong of me to have brought him and I'm probably sick for doing so, but I _have_ to know how he'll react. Call me sick if you will but that's the Maker's honest truth._

The various captains of the Outbound Ventures ship and their escorts occupied the following row. Drake and Nechayev, along with assorted Barrinoran officials occupied the third. The Outbound Ventures crewmen who _weren't_ ushering took up the remainder of the seating. Notable Barrinoran citizens occupied the opposing bank of chairs. Police officers, Navy and Militia officers, business leaders and public servants comprised this group.

The ceremony itself was a blend of Vulcan, Romulan, and El-Aurian traditions. The officiator was a grizzled old _vedek_ that had ministered to the Maquis. Vedek Alifro Sarin had no illusions regarding aliens upholding Bajoran beliefs so he'd been more than happy to develop this hybridised ceremony alongside Macen and T'Kir. The Vulcan priestess brought in for the opening blessing had been far more reluctant.

The colours for the ceremony were a deep forest green and black. The music spanned the quadrant. The vows were intimate, composed by the couple themselves.

Vedek Alifro and Priestess T'Sharra stepped out onto the raised dais the podium was erected on. The holocameras came to life and began panning crowd and the two spiritual leaders. At least the paparazzi had enough respect to remain discreetly out of sight and to speak in hushed, reverential tones. The crowd rustled with anticipation. They were stilled by Macen's emergence from behind the black silk screened, green flower festooned trellises that created the illusion of walls to either side of the dais.

Macen wore his Starfleet dress uniform. It seemed an odd choice to some but protocol allowed it since Macen was still an officer in the active reserves. For Macen, it was a dig aimed squarely at Admirals Drake and Nechayev reminding them that although he was no longer a member of the SID, he was still around and a force to be reckoned with. T'Kir approved of Macen's antics on grounds of general mischief and because she like the look of the uniform. Blacks pants and boots coupled with a white and grey jacket suited her.

Macen stood patiently and waited all alone. El-Aurian tradition demanded that the groom present himself as a viable partner and mate. Both the Romulans and Vulcans echoed this sentiment. This aspect of the ceremony had been the easiest compromise to reach.

The bridal tent was located just outside of the trellis walls. T'Kir was there being attended to by Parva. The Orion was an expert with make-up and hair, as befitted a former sex slave. Ro Laren was also there. Ro was assuming the role of the bride's matron and would first escort her down the aisle and then stand beside her as proscribed in the Romulan marital tradition.

As if on cue, T'Kir appeared at the end of the aisle. Ro stood proud and erect beside her. Ro wore her Starfleet dress uniform for the occasion. It was identical to Macen's only with Lieutenant's insignia rather than that of a full Commander.

T'Kir was bedecked in the silken creation she'd co-designed with her dressmaker. T'Kir had opted for a Japanese kimono since it reflected aspects of both the Vulcan and Romulan wedding robes. Her kimono was in the Ikebana tradition. It possessed black trim and a black belt on an emerald green base. She wore black silk pants and a mandarin collared tunic underneath.

Ro escorted her down the aisle. The Bajoran bent her arm at the elbow and provided a level platform for T'Kir's hand to rest. They came to Macen's position in front of the podium and Ro stepped aside. Macen smiled at T'Kir and she beamed in reply.

As they stood there, facing one another, T'Sharra approached the podium. Macen and T'Kir stepped onto the dais, one to either side of T'Sharra. The Vulcan priestess reached out and placed her fingers on the nerve clusters in each of their faces and temples. T'Sharra closed her eyes and began the mind meld. Macen had to make a concentrated effort to lower his natural psionic defences and allow the cleric access to his mind.

"The bond between these two is strong." T'Sharra pronounced, breaking the stillness that had grown up around the assembled crowd, "Their commitment is true. The marriage is approved of and may proceed."

With that said, T'Sharra withdrew and Macen and T'Kir retook their positions before the podium. Vedek Alifro approached the podium and gazed intently at the crowd, "Before we begin, I must ask, does anyone object to this union?"

"Yes!" Wild Dog shouted and leapt to his feet, "She's mine I tell you!"

"What are you doing?" Grace hissed, tugging at his trouser leg, "Sit down!"

"No," another voice rang out, "she's mine!"

"She's mine!" a third voice plaintively called out.

"Oh _shuk_!" T'Kir fumed.

Macen was snickering, which didn't help her mood, "All of you, sit down and shut up! I'm marrying this man and there's nothing you can do about it. You lost me ten years ago. Deal with it!"

T'Kir turned to Alifro, "You can proceed now."

Alifro paused. The various men were returning to their seats, much to the consternation of their escorts. Seeing that the crowd had settled down, or at least would wait until they were out of the public eye to provoke hostilities, Alifro decided to proceed.

"Friends and comrades, brothers and sisters, honoured guests," Alifro's resonant baritone rang out, "we are gathered her today to witness the consecration of this union. We need not question whether or not this union is viable since it has already withstood the test of time. Forged in the fires of friendship and camaraderie, this relationship has withstood over a decades worth of trials. We do not fear for the future of this union since the two partners enter into it with the deepest commitment. Join with me now as the two petitioners recite their vows and pledge themselves eternally to one another."

Macen straightened a bit and gazed intently into T'Kir's sparkling eyes, "I have to confess, over the last dozen years, I rarely thought this day would come. The first six years were filled with wrath and fire. The next six were filled with wonder, joy, and more fire and turmoil."

The audience chuckled appreciatively and Macen continued, "We reached this day because I can no longer envision a day without you in it. You have a power over me that is both wonderful and terrible to behold. I revel in it and fear it at the same time. For these reasons and a multitude of others, T'Kir, I pledge all of myself to you. I shall stand beside you no matter what travails arise and count myself blessed for it."

A profound silence lay over the crowd as the weight of Macen's declaration washed over them. T'Kir herself wiped away a single joyous tear. She waited for a moment to ascertain whether or not Macen had concluded his vows. Seeing that he had, she proceeded with hers.

"You carried me through the darkest years of my life. I wouldn't be here if not for you. At first you were my commander, my confidant, and my friend when I had no others. I relied upon you for my strength to carry on for another day."

T'Kir took a deep breath and plunged on ahead, "When I spent time isolated from the world, you kept in touch with me, giving me a lifeline to the galaxy beyond my walls. You were the one to rescue me from that place and provide the escape from the mouth of madness. Your actions allowed me to rediscover myself. I found my true self and once again stood equal to anyone else around me."

"It was at this time I realised that my infatuation with you had grown into genuine affection. My love for you surprised me in its intensity even as it consumed me. Fortunately for me, you returned my love. Since that day, my life has been an infinite voyage of discovery. It is a journey I want to spend the rest of my life completing."

Fervently now, T'Kir finished, "I pledge myself to you, Brin Macen, mind, body, and soul. All I have and am is yours."

The crowd sat in silence as Alifro resumed speaking, "Ladies and gentlebeings, we have witnessed this pair's declarations of dedication. With the authority granted to me by the United Federation of Planets and the Vedek Assembly, I pronounce you man and wife."

Macen embraced T'Kir and kissed her fiercely. When they separated, a loud pneumatic _crack_ resounded through the wedding grounds. T'Kir flinched and then inspected her arm. Attached to her sleeve was an isolinear tag. She began to reach out for Macen but the transporter beam caught her and she disappeared in its incandescent fire. Ro held Macen at bay as his wife dematerialised.

"Save your strength for what you're good at!" Ro advised, "Track whoever did this down and get her back."

Macen reined himself in and started down the aisle, motioning for his crew to follow. It was then that armed men and women appeared at the end of the aisle.

Macen dove for the ground while yelling, "Down!"

Ro, who'd been following him, mirrored his action. Once on the ground, she reached into the waistband of her pants at the small of her back. She withdrew the Type I "Cricket" phaser secreted there in one deft motion. She instinctively brought her weapon to bear and fired.

The lead assailant went down as the stunning force particle beam struck him and short-circuited his nervous system. The woman behind him brought her disruptor up and returned fire. Ro rolled across the aisle and then stopped and fired again. She missed but her female attacker retreated.

Macen and Ro rose as one. The mysterious assailants had begun firing into the crowd. Most of the guests had taken cover behind the titanium chairs they'd been sitting in. Macen retrieved the fallen raider's pistol and began firing at the pirates. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that one of the corsairs had flanked him.

Daggit suddenly appeared and felled the human with a single upward strike to the nose. Meeting more resistance than anticipated, the pirates chose the better part of valour. The female that had duelled with Ro uttered a command into a hand communicator and the strike force beamed out. Left with no other ready sources of information, Macen returned to the felled attack leader.

Macen requested a bottle of water from the guest's refreshment table. Once he had it, he threw its contents onto the pirate's face. The other man came awake, sputtering his outrage.

"Shut up." Macen ordered glacially, "Under Barrinoran law, kidnapping is punishable with an immediate application of the death penalty. You've one opportunity to stay alive. Answer my questions to the best of your ability and I'll hand you over to the courts with a recommendation for clemency."

The various prospects ran through the pirate's mind. He'd read a dossier on Macen en route. He knew of the El-Aurian's ability to be ruthless on occasions that warranted it. He had little doubt that Macen would consider this just such an occasion.

"All right, I'll co-operate."

"Who sent you?" Macen inquired.

There was no reply and Macen shot the man in the leg. Over the cry of pain and following whimpers, Macen said, "I'm giving you the chance to co-operate. I suggest you use it. This is a Cardassian made disruptor. I'm intimately familiar with its operation. I could keep this up for days. The question is, can you?"

"Adrya Jeklan!" the man cried out, "He sent us!"

"Where is she being taken?" Macen asked angrily.

"To Adrya's base on _Starfarer Station_." the man sobbed, "You have to protect me. If he learns I've betrayed the Syndicate, they'll kill me. It's the Code. Ask her." he pointed at Parva.

Parva nodded, "It's their damned code all right."

Macen looked around at his crew, "I know I promised you all some leave time, but would you consider postponing your vacations?"

"Of course!" Grace affirmed enthusiastically.

"No problem." Daggit nodded.

Radil crossed her arms but jerked her head in assent, "I'm here for the team."

Parva broke into a savage grin, "Anything to _frinx _these bastards."

"You can count me in as well." Danan announced.

"Then all that's left is to spring Kort and we can get underway." Macen declared.

"I can extend my leave and come with as well." Ro added.

"Thanks Laren. It's appreciated." Macen smiled.

"Belay that Lieutenant." Admiral Nechayev said as she approached, "This is an extra-territorial matter. As such, you are forbidden as a Starfleet officer to get involved."

"This matter is about to become a territorial matter, Alynna." Macen argued, "Our next stop is _Starfarer Station_."

"If you can end, or even curtail, Adrya's operation, we'll arrange for a monetary award." Nechayev stated, "But I cannot allow a Starfleet officer to participate in what will appear to be the harassment of a 'law abiding' citizen."

"Thanks again, Alynna." Macen said in disgust, "I knew I could count on your support."

"I have a feeling you won't need it." Nechayev replied.

"No." Macen said evenly, "We won't."


	5. Chapter 5

80

The Barrinoran authorities were bending over backwards to accommodate the information requests flying out of Outbound Ventures. All of the assembled captains and crew had volunteered to assist in the recovery. The word had spread to those units still engaged in contractual assignments. They volunteered as well. Macen declined their requests.

"It's more important to fulfil our upcoming contracts." Macen told them, "Select your crewmen best able to complete your assorted tasks and have them man our _Mosquito_-class heavy runabouts. The runabouts can stand in for your primary vessels, which will be on stand-by awaiting notification of when and where to strike."

This was met with some grumbling but Jamie Kirk and the other captains quickly quelled the dissenting voices. Backed by a united front, Macen turned to the Barrinoran authorities. System Traffic Control co-ordinated with Transit Control to narrow the field of suspects to one vessel. They'd filed a flight plan whose next destination was listed as Bajor. No one expected the ship to actually arrive there but an alert was issued anyhow.

The Barrinoran spirit of independence worked in Macen's favour. The Barrinoran Rangers, the planet's chief law enforcement agency, supported Macen's drive to personally pursue his bride's abductors. The Rangers had, in fact, volunteered en masse to accompany Macen's crew. Once again, Macen declined, citing his Federation letter of marque as his authority to enter UFP space and deal with Adrya.

Despite Nechayev and Drake's poor showing of support, they had _not _forbidden him from this rescue attempt. Tacit approval was better than outright opposition. Macen realised that both admirals would like nothing better than to actively support his operation but felt hamstrung by their perceived legal obligations. They wouldn't help but they were once again using Macen for their purposes.

Starfleet Intelligence had been trying to pin something on Adrya for over a decade with little success. Although every law enforcement official in the quadrant knew who and what the Bajoran was, on a padd he looked perfectly legitimate. Adrya's space station provided a perfect front. Between its ore processing operations for the local belt miners and repair and refit yards, the station was a boon in and of itself.

If Macen's raid on the facility bore fruit, Starfleet Intelligence and the SID would pounce upon the data and hand it over to the local UFP prosecutor. If Macen came up empty, it could be blamed on a renegade and Outbound Ventures would receive a slap on the wrist. It was a classic realpolitik gambit and Macen's crew were the potential sacrificial lambs.

It was a position that both Macen and his crew were used to. This level of plausible deniability was exactly the reason that the SID had originally helped found and equip Outbound Ventures then hired them to conduct missions on their behalf. It had been an arrangement that, despite the bureaucratic entanglements, Macen had enjoyed.

The changing political climate at Starfleet had forced Macen and his crew out. They had recruited other abruptly unemployed privateers to the Outbound Ventures fold. The company had proven a highly successful venture both in the market economy of Barrinor and within the cashless borders of the Federation.

Macen's contacts inside of Starfleet had passed on rumours of sweeping reforms in the wake of Edward Jellico's rotation out of the position of Chief of Operations. Although promoted to the position of a theatre commander, he no longer had his seat on the shadowy security powerhouse of Starfleet, the Council of Five. In the wake of Jellico's departure, the SID was retooling the entire organisation in order to regain the prestige and proven success rate it had enjoyed before the dismissal of the independent contracted personnel. Macen had half expected Nechayev and Drake to ask him to return to the SID during their appearance at the wedding. Unfortunately, their response to the crisis had been far removed from Macen's hopes.

_If I were to be truly honest with myself_, Macen silently admitted, _I _want _to go back to the SID. I miss it, despite my misgivings over operational restrictions and bureaucratic entanglements. The Fates know I miss it with all of my heart. We've done good work out here but it lacks the drive and sense of purpose that Starfleet provides._

With one last forlorn look at T'Kir's things adorning their cabin, Macen exited the space and entered the corridor outside, heading for the turbolift. Macen had been unable to contact T'Kir through their telepathic rapport since moments after her capture. He occasionally felt an unsettling stupor wash over him but there was never anything definite to even indicate whether or not she was still alive. The thought of her death filled the void left by her absence with an all-consuming cold rage that threatened to overwhelm him. It was a dispassionate, logical anger that would enable him to kill and keep on killing until every member of Adrya's organisation was dead.

It was this capacity for cold-blooded decisions that frightened Starfleet's counsellors. Macen had failed all of his psychological evaluations since the mid-2360s. This hadn't prevented him from being slated to assume command of a _Nova_-class surveyor when it rolled out of the Verge Cluster shipyards. His assignment to infiltrate the Maquis had sidetracked him.

Macen's tenure as the absolute master of the _Solstice _and her predecessors had been marred by his doubts in his own command abilities. These doubts had necessitated, in his mind, Macen's recruitment of Riker into the Outbound Venture's fold. Although Macen lacked a formal education in starship operations, he had a fundamental, instinctive grasp of the realities of command born from his decades as a Starfleet Intelligence analyst.

On the ground, Macen was a natural leader. His years as a field operative and Maquis operative served him well. His natural charisma and confidence inspired others. This mission was no exception. The crew was about to fly off to face an entire space station filled with hostiles yet they were absolutely convinced in their ability to win.

Now as he stepped onto the bridge, he was once again struck by the sheer professionalism of his crew. They may have been loose with protocol but they were still among the best he'd ever worked with. Starfleet had been lucky to work with them. Their expulsion from the SID was Starfleet's loss, as the SID's plummeting success rate had proven.

* * *

"Pre-flight check complete, Commander." Grace reported.

"Y'know, this'd be easier if you simply used your Attuner to whisk us there." Riker remarked.

Grace stiffened. Riker had made it no secret that he still hadn't fully forgiven Hannah for altering his memories. Stinging comments such as this one had been made before. Macen understood the crew's general feelings towards Grace's admission three years ago to being a Kelvan rather than a human. Being revealed as a member of a potential invading species and of spying on the Federation and her primary protector was a hard fact to swallow.

Dracas, while he'd been part of the crew, had possessed the strongest feelings of betrayal. Riker probably harboured the most resentment of any current crewmember. Kort and Radil each kept a wary eye on Grace. Daggit and Danan were cautious but had opted to give her another chance…within reason. T'Kir was the only member of the crew that fully embraced Grace and Macen suspected that T'Kir's affections were the young helmswoman's only reason for staying.

Macen himself was divided on the issue. Grace's mental and emotional control was so tightly focused as to block T'Kir's telepathy and Macen's own empathic abilities. Only the strongest of emotions leaked through her natural defences, such as now. Grace was angry and hurt.

Part of Macen felt sorry for her but her past indiscretions had hardened him somewhat towards her. He still felt she deserved one last chance at redemption; however, he was convinced she still had one more surprise in store for the crew. He suspected it had to do with her true identity rather than her previous association with Section 31. S31 had written her off far too easily for such a relatively junior asset to merit much attention from her controllers.

Macen hadn't shared his suspicions with anyone, least of all T'Kir. If Grace were truly on the path of redemption, such as the last three years indicated, then he didn't want to prejudice the crew against her. His own qualms were based on empathic flashes gleaned from high stress moments. Even under emotional duress, Grace maintained rigid emotional walls when discussing her people. That indicated to Macen that she hadn't revealed all of the Kelvans' ambitions or plans.

When it concerned flight ops, though, the woman was all business. She stuffed down her emotions between their usual barriers and focused on her controls and waited for the launch order. Danan sat beside her at OPS and leaned over to offer a few words of encouragement. The effect was immediate. Grace's shoulders relaxed and she sat more easily in her chair.

Macen approached Riker, who was seated in the command chair, "Can I have a word with you XO?"

Riker's eyebrows rose at the use of the diminutive of his actual title, "Do you want to take her out?"

"I'd like a private word with you." Macen said so low only Riker could hear it.

The taller man stood up and followed Macen past Daggit's post and into the briefing room. Once the doors closed behind them, Macen turned, leaned against the table and folded his arms across his chest.

"What the hell just happened out there, Tom?"

"What do you mean?" a puzzled Riker asked.

"Your remarks to Hannah." Macen enlightened him, "They were uncalled for."

"She didn't play with your mind, Brin." Riker growled, "She _frinxed _with mine and I'm not going to let her forget it."

"No one's saying anything about forgetting." Macen assured Riker, "What I'm talking about is _forgiveness_ and second chances. The crew voted on this and agreed to let her stay on."

"No." Riker shook his head and pointed a finger at Macen, "_You _decided to let her stay on, despite the fact that she's misled you twice, and the rest of the crew just went along with it. I wasn't even around to object."

Riker could sense Macen's mood. Despite the Captain's relaxed posture, he was coiled and ready for action. Riker didn't quite understand why he was pushing Macen so hard, but he also knew he wasn't through yet.

"Exactly why do you keep her around, or most of the crew for that matter?" Riker demanded, "We're an assortment of misfits. We're all non-functional in your average, mundane settings."

"Is that why you keep us around, because we can't live without you? Does your ego depend upon the worship of your subjects?" Riker accused, "I've seen your psych profile. Admiral Drake showed it to me when I first signed on. She wanted me to know whom I'd be working with. You're such a jumbled mass of psychoses that its no wonder Starfleet kicked you out…twice!"

"You want to really know why you married T'Kir?" Riker taunted, "She's the only one crazy enough to say 'yes'. You two are both so mental that you deserve…urk!"

Macen moved so fast Riker never saw it coming. In one fluid chopping motion, Macen drove his knuckles into his XO's throat. Riker went down on his knees, clutching at his throat and gasping for air."

"You have a problem with me, that's fine." Macen said without emotion, "But leave my wife out of it, or I'll hurt you. This is merely a lesson. Next time, I won't hold back."

Macen exited the briefing room, leaving Riker doubled over and wheezing as his swelling throat partially constricted his airway. On his way to the command chair, Macen stopped by Daggit's Tactical console.

"Thanks for all those unarmed combat lessons. We still on for sparring tonight?"

"If you think you're up for it." Daggit grunted.

Macen nodded, "It'll take my mind off things."

Daggit gave him a thin smile, "Then I'll be ready at the usual time."

"Oh," Macen said as an afterthought, "If Commander Riker emerges anytime soon, send him to Sickbay."

"I'll do that." Daggit said with a nasty smile. There had been little love lost between the two men since Riker had tried to usurp Daggit's ground command during the very rescue operation that had liberated Riker. Riker was a starship operations officer and had no place attempting to assume command. By implication, by insisting he was the ship's captain, he'd tried to usurp Macen's command as well. These events had created a slightly antagonistic relationship between the two ship's officers.

"Go easy on him Rab." Macen advised, "He needs to save a little face."

Daggit grumbled a bit but nodded his compliance.

* * *

The departure and transit to _Starfarer Station_ was accomplished in just under a day and a half. Riker had recovered and acted as though the confrontation between he and Macen had ever occurred. His manners towards Grace, however, had improved. Macen could detect his emotions and knew it was merely a façade but at least it was a pleasant façade.

Currently, the _Solstice_ approached the Kiper belt surrounding the binary primaries that the _Starfarer Station_ orbited. They maintained their cloak as they approached the massive Ort cloud that surrounded the system, or systems. The G1I primary held five gas giants in thrall. The subsidiary G3 star "wobbled" the orbits of these worlds as they passed within its sphere of gravitic influence.

The Ort cloud encompassed the outer gravitic influence of the twin stars. _Starfarer Station_ was at a mid-point between the outer and inner gravity wells of the stars. The station stayed out of the giant star's massive sway but instead rode in a microgravity orbit around both stars.

The _Solstice _was traversing the Ort cloud on a ballistic course. This was to defeat any potential remote senor platforms hidden amongst the comettary fragments. The ship's impulse engines would spew superheated plasma into an ice field. Not a recipe for a stealthy entrance.

"Captain," Danan's voice sounded over the intercom from Astrometrics, "we've just been lit up by active sensors. The source is nearby, from within the comet field."

"Has our cloak been penetrated?" Macen calmly inquired, pulling up Danan's readings on his InfoSys board.

There was a pause then a relieved sounding voice, "It doesn't appear so. Active sensors are cropping up across the field in a random sequence."

The _Solstice _herself was operating only on passive sensors. This meant that, effectively, she could only "listen" to other electromagnetic and subspace transmissions. The ship was essentially blinded in comparison to her usual capabilities. Fortunately, the visual feed of the main viewer was unaffected.

Several tense hours passed by before Danan announced, "We're clear of the sensor net and the Ort cloud."

"Engage impulse engines," Riker ordered, "but maintain silent running."

The _Solstice _surged forward. Freed from the cumbersome restraint of ballistic flight, the ship truly came to life.

"Estimate 5.6 hours to target present speed." Grace reported.

"Captain?" Riker deferred.

"Go to maximum impulse and recalculate." Macen said emotionlessly.

"Adjusting speed and recalculating." Grace obeyed, "Estimate now 4.3 hours to target."

Macen rose from his station, "Maintain course and speed. I'll be in my office. Alert me if anything changes."

"Aye aye, sir." Riker acknowledged with a nod.

* * *

Blearily, T'Kir's eyes fluttered open. They were half lidded and she felt drunk. _I've been drugged_, she realised, _Whoever did this to me is going to pay!_

Her addled brain began registering sensations. Her armpits hurt and she slowly realised she was propped up by a pair of restraints. She tried to move her hands but they were shackled to the same cylindrical pipe she was propped up against. She knew it was cylindrical because she could feel the curve of it in her back.

She tried her feet next but they were also confined. She then tried to arch her back in order to scissor her body and throw her considerable strength into breaking the restraints but her waist was tethered to the pipe. As her vision cleared, her sapphire eyes came to rest on a Bajoran male standing before her. Psychotic glee lit up the man's face.

"A bit addled are we, dear?" the Bajoran asked, "That's to be expected. You were stunned the moment you materialised aboard the _Treasure Hunter_ and then you were kept sedated for the rest of your journey here."

"And where exactly is here?" T'Kir croaked.

"_Starfarer Station_." he replied, "My own personal headquarters."

_Great, _T'Kir thought miserably, _not only am I not on my honeymoon, but I'm in the clutches of a sadist like Adrya Jeklan. _

"And why am I here?" T'Kir asked though her throat was still raw.

"You are the bait." Adrya said casually, as if discussing the weather, "You and your crewmates terminated an operation of mine. A highly lucrative operation at that. I have a certain reputation. Now, a reputation can be little more than gossip but I think I've established mine with both word and deed."

"You and your companions threaten my reputation. How would it look if someone was to interfere in my business and I did not respond? People would begin to doubt my resolve and I can't allow that. So that brings us to your current predicament."

Adrya graced her with a particularly nasty smile, "It is said that Captain Macen is intensely loyal to his crew. How much more devoted is he towards his blushing bride? We're about to find out. Unfortunately, you won't survive much beyond his arrival but at least you'll die knowing he cares."

The gangster leaned in towards her, "In the meantime, you'll share all the intimate details of the capabilities of Macen's ship and crew."

"Go _frinx _yourself, Jerk Off." T'Kir snarled, "I won't betray my crew."

Adrya sighed then shrugged, "Then we'll just have to resort to torture." His psychotic leer returned, "I do so love the torturing."

"I don't think so _shukhead_." T'Kir said resolutely and narrowed her eyes. A moment later they widened in shock.

"Surprised?" Adrya asked gleefully, "Harvis, Grell, show yourselves."

From around either side of the cylinder, two men appeared. On T'Kir's right was a huge, bulging Naussican. That was saying something for a race that was already predisposed towards those traits. The second, on her left appeared human, but was very nervous and agitated. Something in his underlying behaviour marked him as a non-human.

"On your right is Grell." Adrya happily made the introduction. Grell stuck a knife between his mandibles and licked the blade; "Grell is my chief assistant when…persuasive methods are required."

"Since he was already here, "T'Kir said dryly, "I'll assume torturing me has been your plan all along."

Adrya grinned like a child pilfering cookies, "I've been caught. But it's time for you to meet my real ace-in-the-hole. Harvis is a Betazed. You're rumoured to have first-rate psychic abilities. Harvis is here to prevent you from _frinxing _with our minds."

It was T'Kir's turn to break into a nasty smirk, "That worm won't save you. You belong t'me. I'll see you dead before this over."

Adrya met her eyes and accepted the challenge in them, "We'll see about that. Grell hit the switch."

Electricity arced through T'Kir's body and her nervous system overloaded, nearly knocking her unconscious. Adrya shook his head.

"Take it down a notch, Grell. We don't want her passing out on us."

T'Kir's eyes began to clear and nodded, "Good. You're back. Now we'll try this again. Grell, hit it."

Searing pain lanced itself throughout T'Kir's body. Harvis winced. Adrya walked over to him as the electrical surge ended.

"Buck up man." Adrya urged, "We've hours of this ahead."

Harvis gave him a wan smile.

"Have you gotten anything yet?" Adrya sobered.

Harvis shook his head, "Her mental shields are still too strong. I am getting psionic feedback though. I feel a portion of what she does. I'd have broken by now."

"Which is why she's a soldier and you're what she called you: a worm." Adrya sneered.

Adrya returned to his position before T'Kir, "Ready to talk now?"

"Go to hell." she managed to rasp.

Adrya clapped his hands together, "I hoped you prove to be a challenge. Grell…"

* * *

The _Solstice _was currently within the station's inner ring of defence, floating just beyond its docking pylons. When she unleashed her firepower it would be devastating. Inside the ship, on her bridge, however, things were not so settled.

"This is not open to discussion!" Macen said emphatically, "T'Kir is alive and they are currently torturing her. Radil and I are the assault team. Everyone else remains aboard and provides the distraction and then, hopefully, the extraction."

"How can you know she is being tortured?" Kort inquired. So far, the good doctor had remained completely sober. The test of his resolve remained to be seen in the duration of this latest attempt at sobriety.

"T'Kir and I share a telepathic rapport." Macen answered, "We have for just under six years now. They've been electrocuting her but it seems as though they're about to switch methods."

"If your minds are linked, how are you able to function?" Riker wondered.

"T'Kir's shielding me _and _repelling a psychic probe by a Betazed." Macen's eyes darkened, "She has a hole card to play and she's going to have to play it soon or break. We have to be in position by the time she makes her move."

"I still don't understand why I can't accompany you." Daggit complained.

"I need your precision with fire control here on the bridge." Macen repeated to Daggit, "When you're shooting, you have to leave certain sections intact so we can make our withdrawal. Parva, when we drop the cloak, you'll be able to scan the interior of the station. Beam as close to the central core as you can."

The public records on _Starfarer Station _that Macen had pulled up excluded information on the central core. It was the consensus of the crew that this is where Adraya's criminal empire resided. It was into this scorpion's nest that Macen and Radil were headed.

"Radil, you and I will gear up. Parva, ready the transporter. The rest of you, good luck and happy hunting." Macen said stepped away from the Tactical console and headed for the turbolift where Parva and Radil waited.

"Give `em hell, sir" Grace called out.

"That's from all of us." Riker added, giving Grace a sidelong reprimanding glance.

"Thanks Hannah." Macen gave her a grim smile, "I plan on it."

* * *

"In case you haven't noticed, you have electrodes attached to your lovely dress. These electrodes are repeated in your shackles. They can transmit electricity at any voltage, even down to the neurochemical level. Grell, give our guest a mild demonstration. T'Kir suddenly had the worst Charlie horse she'd ever experienced in her thigh. It subsided and she whimpered slightly.

Adrya looked to Harvis, who shook his head, "Are you ready to talk?"

T'Kir wearily lifted her head and began to laugh. Her voice was hoarse and ravaged by screaming. There was a fierce confidence in her eyes that Adrya found disconcerting.

"You're a corpse." T'Kir warned, "You just don't know it yet."

Adrya stepped back and his eyes shifted nervously, "Grell! Give this bitch a taste of what it means to burn in hell."

Grell tapped a control and T'Kir's body spasmed. An endless scream was ripped from her lips.

* * *

The _Solstice _decloaked and fired two torpedoes into the hull of the station. Grace then fired the manoeuvring thrusters and repositioned the ship even as Daggit unleashed a volley of phaser fire designed to eliminate _Starfarer's_ defensive capabilities. During this havoc, Macen and Radil materialised outside a hatchway leading to the central core.

Macen staggered. Radil gripped his shoulder, "You okay?"

Macen nodded and straightened up, "We don't have much time."

Radil checked the power cell on her rifle, "Then let's do it."

"Ladies first." Macen bowed.

"Time to kick some ass." Radil growled and shot the hatches lock. The door slid aside, "Oh look, it came open. I guess they want us to enter."

Despite the situation, Macen chuckled, "I guess so."

"I know you've done this before but we have to do this right." Radil advised, "Shoot anything that moves and shoot to kill. No Starfleet squeamishness."

"No worries." Macen said flatly, "These _frinxers_ signed their death warrants the minute they kidnapped my wife."

"I still can't believe you two got married."

"Don't start."

"Okay, but its just weird."

Macen sighed.


	6. Chapter 6

95

The deckplates shook and Grell deactivated the muscular defribulator. The room's comm panel began chiming and Adrya stormed over to it, "What the hell was that?"

"A ship suddenly appeared on our sensors and opened fire on us." the nameless minion answered.

"So destroy it." Adrya replied angrily.

"We can't!" the gangster wailed, "She's inside our defence perimeter and has already destroyed the bulk of our arsenal."

"Deploy the light attack craft and the runabouts." Adrya ordered, "Have them deal with the problem."

Adrya stalked back to T'Kir and delivered a vicious left cross. T'Kir's head rolled, then a copper taste filled her mouth and she spat blood from her split lip.

"How?" Adrya demanded, "How did they do it and what else can they do?"

T'Kir coolly assessed Adrya, "I told you all that I will. You're a dead man. I suggest you make peace with your gods, but hurry, you don't have much time left."

"Grell, throw the switch and let her die in contorted agony." Adrya commanded.

Grell remained immobile, frozen in position, "Grell, what the hell is the matter with you?"

Harvis suddenly let out a bloodcurdling scream and clutched the sides of his head. Adrya wheeled and faced T'Kir, "You!"

T'Kir graced him with the coldest smile he'd ever seen, "I warned you. I advised you to quickly make peace with your gods but nooo, you had to be a typical male and not listen. Now listen to this: you are going to die."

Adrya went for his disruptor but found that his left hand couldn't complete the cross-draw. He felt a trickle of blood dribble from his nose across his lips. His vision darkened and colours began to swirl around him. In his last moments of life, searing pain wracked his brain and an ear splitting cry was torn from his lips. Afterwards, his body collapsed into a convulsing heap, as if broken.

T'Kir turned towards the burly Naussican. He robotically shuffled towards her. Upon arriving before her, he began unlatching her restraints. When he'd completed his task, T'Kir removed his disruptor from its holster and placed its barrel against Grell's forehead. She fired and the henchman fell over backwards with a burn mark in his forehead.

T'Kir removed her kimono, a move she was loathe to do but it would only get in her way. She removed Adrya's Klingon disruptor from its holster and tucked into the rear waistband of her black silks. She then dealt with Harvis.

She knelt beside the Betazed and shook her head, "Tsk, tsk. You want to know what its like to be a first level mind reader? Well, let's show you."

T'Kir placed her left hand to Harvis' _katra_ points and intently stared at the man's face as he whimpered and shivered. Adding her psionic strength to his, Harvis was soon able to read the minds of everyone on the station. The surrounding spacecraft followed. Soon his sensitivity expanded and he was embracing the minds in the neighbouring solar system. His mind reached out until it touched the entire sector.

It was an experience few could grasp. To touch a piece of infinity was beyond the ken of most mortals. The majority would be broken by such an experience. Harvis certainly was.

Harvis stared vacantly into space and drooled. T'Kir doubted he'd ever recover. She wasn't certain she ever had or ever would. She'd learned to get by. Her meds kept the universe at bay and that was enough. Her anchor kept her feet on the ground and he had arrived and was coming for her. It was time to meet him.

She retrieved Grell's disruptor from where she'd laid it on the floor and glided to the door. She sensed the minds of three bodyguards outside. T'Kir took a deep breath and readied herself. Her muscles burned and she was still shaky from the shock treatments. Most would say that she was in no shape to fight but she'd learned otherwise in the Maquis.

T'Kir activated the door and it slid open. All three bodyguards turned expectantly. They all hesitated for a split second at the shock of seeing her instead of Adrya exiting the torture chamber. T'Kir delivered a powerful kick to the guard in front of her. She swung her left elbow into the face of the Andorian female standing to that side. She swung her hand into position and shot the Mafioso on her right.

Strong, blue arms wrapped themselves around her. T'Kir thrust her left elbow into the Andorian's diaphragm and then pitched herself forward, bringing her leg up to kick the guard from over her back. She swung around to face the third bodyguard.

The Trill had risen from a prone position, his jaw shattered, "Gemf yrrr hanfsh oop." He gestured upwards with his phaser.

T'Kir bent over and dropped Grell's disruptor on the deck plating. She then dove to the deck herself, scooping up the fallen disruptor and shooting the Trill in the chest.

T'Kir rose and studied the fallen man's corpse.

"That was certainly easy." she remarked, "I just imagined you were Lisea Danan."

* * *

For three years now, the Trill scientist had quietly urged Macen to abandon his relationship with T'Kir and resume their previous romance. It had only been subtly overt during the first year. Since then Danan had taken on a series of lovers and only broached the matter in a joking manner. As a reader, though, T'Kir could taste the sincerity behind the humour.

T'Kir had warned off Danan on two previous occasions. The second demonstrating her ability to separate Lisea's mind from the Danan symbiot. It had shaken the Trill so badly that she'd barely spoken three words to Macen outside of an official capacity for months. Now, although Danan didn't honestly expect favourable results, the game had become a challenge. A challenge that was quickly losing its appeal, especially now that Macen had formally pledged himself to T'Kir through an act of marriage. Disrupting a marriage was taboo even amongst the otherwise liberated Trill.

T'Kir consulted a nearby station diagram and decided on a course based upon where Macen currently was. They'd intercept one another barring heavy resistance or death. The odds of either eventuality were still inordinately high for T'Kir's tastes. _If I could get to a computer terminal with mainframe access, _she thought, _I'd show these buggers better than t'mess with me and mine._

She checked the power cell on her disruptor and switched with the larger, Klingon model. The power cell of the first weapon was barely drained. She wouldn't have bothered swapping the two guns except that the Klingon pistol was far more cumbersome and was poking her in the back. Having accomplished that and determined her next course of action, T'Kir set out to join Macen.

* * *

"So," Radil asked, looking at the four-way intersection stretching out before them, "which way?"

"I don't know." Macen admitted, "I'm making this up as I go. What I do know is that T'Kir is free and she's that way."

Macen pointed at the point between the forward and right passageway. Radil pursed her lips, "Well that certainly helps."

"Ah hell," Macen shrugged, "let's go right."

"Why right?"

"T'Kir informed me she at least knows how to rendezvous with us if we head right."

"Good reason."

* * *

"Commander," Daggit reported coolly, "we have a host of light attack craft and runabouts headed our way."

"What's the status of the station's defensive grid?" Riker inquired, stroking his beard.

"Destroyed except for one photon torpedo launcher and two disruptor banks."

The next set of orders were meant for both Daggit and Grace, "Break off from the assault on the station. Engage the enemy craft."

"Aye, aye." Grace sang out. Daggit silently began retargeting his weapons. Riker was, as always, pleased with the crew's efficiency. Despite their lax mannerisms, they were among the best in the business.

* * *

"I still say we should have shot those two sentries." Radil complained.

"Our knives killed them just as efficiently so why complain?" Macen wondered.

"Because we got into a physical confrontation." Radil shot back, "They could have incapacitated one, or both, of us and raised the alarm."

"Discharging energy weapons could have alerted their security forces as well." Macen replied, "I'd rather take the chance of the enemy finding two stabbed corpses then being pinpointed by the station's internal sensors."

"Whatever."

Macen briefly wondered if T'Kir's speech patterns were going to affect the entire crew. Grace was bad enough but if Radil was going to start spouting T'Kirisms, he didn't know if he could take it. He found the trait adorable in his wife. Mimics tended to annoy him.

_Okay, _he amended, _not so much with Hannah. She needs to loosen up a bit._

A corner loomed ahead. Radil took up position at the edge of the corner and raised her rifle to her shoulder. She then stepped out from behind the corner. No one appeared to be in the large room that lay before them.

Macen followed her into the room. It appeared to be the coolant pump room for an old-fashioned fusion reactor. The design was at least two centuries old. A door was across the way, behind a maze of pipes.

Macen took point and Radil covered him. Macen took four steps forward and an armed pirate tech suddenly appeared to his left. Macen quickly drew his pistol and shot the main dead centre in the chest. Alarms began to sound and warning lights flashed.

"What happened to not discharging our phasers?" Radil asked dryly.

"I'm fine." Macen retorted, "Thanks for asking."

The door across the way opened and five gangsters rushed in.

"Take cover!" Macen yelled and dove behind some pipes.

"Thanks for the advice." Radil remarked from her position behind an equipment control bank. She took aim with her rifle and opened fire on the onrushing criminals. Macen joined in and they swiftly dispatched the first five security sentients. To their dismay, a second waved appeared in the doorway and were much better prepared. They laid down suppressive fire as their sentries advanced. Macen and Radil returned fire as best they could but the patrol was dangerously close.

* * *

The lone sentry slumped to the floor thanks to a surreptitious nerve pinch. T'Kir lifted the man's phaser rifle from him. She disposed of the Klingon disruptor at the nearest refuse chute. The energy converters reduced the pistol's molecules to an energy state and funnelled it back into the station's replicator network.

_Where are you? _she telepathically queried Macen.

_In the reactor pump house with half of the station's security forces on the other side of the room._ he thoughtcast in reply.

_How'd that happen?_ she asked disapprovingly

_Trying to rescue you._ he answered in an exasperated tone.

_Well, hold on, _she counselled, _I'm on my way._

_Hurry._ he suggested and T'Kir picked up her pace.

* * *

The _Solstice _dove and weaved between the attack craft and the station's spires. The station was essentially two onion domes connected by a central core. The external docking pylons branched off this core. The rest of the pylons were internal, accessible through large space doors that led to a cavernous space within the station's hull.

Grace wove the ship in a concentric spiral around the station's ore processor. The attack craft pumped phaser blasts and disruptor bolts into the station's extension. Explosions erupted from the ore processor's bowels and it separated from the primary station.

The attack craft pilots seemed stunned by this turn of events. Lifepods and shuttles began pouring forth from the crippled ore processor. Grace forced herself not to wonder how many innocents had just died. _I didn't fire. _she reminded herself, _And can anyone in this system truly be considered innocent?_ She had no answers but at least the questions wouldn't haunt her.

Taking advantage of the opposing pilots' distraction, Grace looped the _Solstice _over and buzzed the station. She skirted the hull as the station's sole remaining torpedo launcher and two surviving disruptor banks attempted to bracket them. In addition, the light attack pilots had recovered and were in pursuit. Wearing a predatory smile, Grace aimed for the shipyards. _Let's see if they'll repeat past mistakes._

* * *

Well before she could see the man and woman laying down suppressive fire for their comrades, T'Kir's acute hearing detected the discharges of the energy weapons several corridors away. She nestled her rifle into her shoulder and took aim at the closest sentry, which in this case happened to be the male partner of the duo. He immediately went down. Them woman saw this out of the corner of her eye and instantly swung her heavy rifle around and brought it to bear on T'Kir.

It was a valiant effort but it was too late. T'Kir merely had to shift her aim slightly to her right and the Ktarian woman was in her sights. T'Kir fired without hesitation, like her colleague before her; the woman was already dead when she hit the deck. T'Kir then took up position where the Ktarian had been and began firing into the assembled crowd of gangsters from the rear.

* * *

Macen ejected the spent power pack from his phaser pistol and rammed home a fresh one. He then took aim and shot an encroaching pirate in the head. Radil felt the all too familiar tingling in her palm indicating that her phaser rifle too was drained. While Macen held the opposition at bay, she too swapped out powerpacks. She resumed firing only to discover that someone was firing at the attacking corsairs from _behind_!

Macen turned to her, grinning like a maniac, "That's my girl!" he declared proudly.

* * *

_They really are that stupid. _Grace observed in surprise. The shipyard gantries and framework was intact. The ships that had been undergoing servicing though were a different matter. Most were wrecks, hulled and gutted. Grace just couldn't believe any pilot, no matter how inept, could inflict so much damage upon their own infrastructure. Now, though, she was in line for the station's defences as well as the pursuing fighters.  
Riker stroked his beard and leaned forward in the command chair, "Hannah, Rab, we're through running from these bastards. Take them out. Take them all out."

Grace grinned with relish. This was the moment she'd been waiting for. She banked the _Solstice _sharply down the station's axial line. A torpedo intended for the scoutship destroyed a runabout. Disruptor bursts meant for the _Blackbird_-class vessel also crippled several of the pursuing light attack craft.

Daggit directed several phaser blasts and a brace of torpedoes at the station's remaining defences, destroying them. Grace then flipped the ship over and headed directly into the face of her pursuers. Daggit readied the weapons array and began firing as soon as the scoutship was reoriented. Their first past crippled or destroyed half of the dilapidated pursuit craft. Grace looped the ship over once again and dove right into the midst of the retreating fighters.

Once again, Daggit was ruthlessly efficient. A dozen or so light attack crews were pleading for help but Riker ordered the _Solstice _back to the station.

"Let's assist the Captain before we worry about scum like this."

Grace felt the same way. It was a shame that Riker had such strong negative feelings towards her. In many ways they were quite compatible. She'd never expect a romance to blossom but at least they should be friends, like she and Daggit were. If only she hadn't been forced into altering his memory.

"Bring us alongside the station at our original insertion point and await the Captain's signal." Riker ordered.

"Aye, sir." Grace replied crisply.

* * *

Caught in a crossfire, the criminal thugs didn't last very long. Once they were dispatched. T'Kir stepped out from her position in the doorway and cast her nearly drained rifle aside. Macen and Radil emerged from the labyrinth of pipes they'd secreted themselves in. Macen picked up his step and rushed to meet T'Kir in the middle of the corpse littered empty space between the opposing doorway and the coolant pipes. Taking refuge amongst the pipes had proven to be a saving grace since the pirates had been afraid to rupture a pipe, and rightly so. These old fashioned reactors were touchy at the best of times.

Macen swept T'Kir up in his arms and fiercely kissed her, "I was so afraid I'd lost you."

"So was I." T'Kir admitted, "You nearly did."

"Where's Adrya?" Macen asked, cold rage swelling inside of him.

"Taken care of, Love." T'Kir assured him. She thoughtcast images of Adrya's death throes into Macen's mind and he settled down.

"Good." he said flatly, "Couldn't have done a better job m'self."

"Now," T'Kir said hopefully, "can we get outta here?"

"Radil?" Macen inquired.

Radil shrugged off the backpack she'd lugged up till this time. She extracted a small, rectangular device and keyed in an activation sequence. Several lights came on and Radil grinned.

"Beacon activated." Radil reported.

"What's that?" T'Kir inquired.

"A communications relay beacon." Macen answered, "Our comm badges alone won't penetrate the shielding around the central core but augmented by this beacon, the signal should get through."

"_Should_?" T'Kir sounded.

"Have a little faith." Macen urged with a mischievous smile, "In the meantime, let's wreak some havoc."

"I'm game." T'Kir replied, "What d'you have in mind?"

"Let's rupture these pipes." Macen explained.

"Are you nuts?" Radil demanded.

"They're filled with water." Macen informed them, "Water won't kill us."

"Isn't it superheated water?" T'Kir pointed out.

"Yeah, well," Macen hedged, "we'll have to do it from the cover of a doorway."

"This is crazy." Radil declared.

"I'll give it a whirl." T'Kir shrugged.

"What the hell did you just say?" Radil asked

T'Kir cocked her head to one side and grinned, "It's better to try then always wonder."

"You're both stupid." Radil snapped.

"You have no idea." T'Kir's grin blossomed into a manic smile.

They moved the beacon to the corridor the criminal sentries had come from. Radil shouldered her rifle while Macen took careful aim from across the way. T'Kir stood by in reserve in case of a miscalculation resulting in an accident.

"Fire!" Macen ordered and he and Radil cut loose. They scythed their weapons' energy discharges across the length and breadth of the pipe array. Superheated water and steam erupted from the damaged conduits. Due to the intense pressure, the water sprayed across the room and Macen and Radil both had to abandon their positions.

Macen slapped the hexagonal comm badge on his belt, "Tom, now would be a good time for an extraction."

* * *

"Message received." Riker acknowledged then addressed Grace, "You're up, Hannah." he said gruffly.

Reluctantly, Grace pulled her Attuner out of her pocket. This particular piece of Kelvan technology was essential to her society. It could convert thought into reality. It was also something she'd used sparingly since the crew's joint mission with the Tal Shiar.

The near infinite capabilities of the Attuner frightened her crewmates. As per her agreement with the Captain, she now used it only under his direction. He'd only ordered her to employ it once before. That was a surprising amount of restraint for someone that had access to unlimited power. In fact, her use of it now was merely a contingency plan in case the rescue team couldn't be beamed back aboard.

"Lees," Grace said to Danan, sitting beside her at Ops, "Give me a map of the station with their relative position plotted out."

"You've got it." Danan replied and transferred the information to the forward sensor display of Grace's Helm.

Grace studied the plot for a moment then pressed the activation stud on her Attuner and concentrated. A heartbeat later, Macen, T'Kir, and Radil appeared on the bridge. Grace ran to T'Kir and hugged her. T'Kir laughed.

I'm all right, Hannah." then T'Kir sobered, "Or at least I will be."

Grace returned to her seat with one last look over her shoulder towards her friend. Macen took T'Kir aside and whispered in her ear. She frowned and her lips puckered.

"But I'm fine." she protested in a whisper.

"Let Kort decide that." he whispered back, "Don't make it an order."

She went for the turbolift with one last defiant glare. Macen suddenly realised that marriage or not, T'Kir's rebellious nature would continue to taint her performance as a member of the crew. Macen shrugged. The fact that she was a handful was part of the attraction.

"Tom," Macen turned to Riker, "I suggest we get out of here."

"Why?"

"Captain," Danan sounded off, "I'm reading a massive power surge throughout the station's power grid."

"That's why." Macen said matter-of-factly.

"It appears to be an unregulated fusion reaction." Danan explained.

"Bingo." Macen retorted, "A week's leave for the pretty lady."

"Grace, get us the hell out of here." Riker ordered.

"Yes sir!"

"Put the station on the main viewer." Macen ordered. He stood by the command chair as the station erupted from the inside. The viewer's automatic filters toned down the brightness of the tiny, artificial star that was born and swiftly died.

"Well," Riker said philosophically, "there goes Adrya Jeklan's operation. Do you suppose the Orion Syndicate will miss him?"

"Probably." Macen replied, "We'll deal with that contingency if and when it arises."

Riker grinned, "I suppose so. So, two weeks off for everyone when we make port?"

"That's the plan."

"Want the centre seat for awhile?"

Macen shook his head, "I'm going to check on my wife. She just survived being tortured. No matter how strong a person is, that leaves scars."

"You sound as though you're speaking from personal experience."

"You're not the only one to have ever enjoyed Cardassian hospitality." Macen said sadly.

"You'll have to tell me about that someday."

"No." Macen said, "I won't." That said, he proceeded to the turbolift and Sickbay.


	7. Chapter 7

107

Upon returning to the Outbound Ventures' headquarters, Christine Pike, the corporate business manager informed Macen that he had two visitors. Pike was unusually reticent about discussing who his company was. His empathic senses stretched forth. All he sensed were feelings of apprehension and anticipation from either party.

He rounded a corner and entered the anteroom leading to his office. Seated there was a man whose knees were nervously bouncing. He practically jumped to his feet when he saw Macen. Macen sensed an impression of familiarity despite his having no recollection of ever having met this man.

The fellow was in his mid- to late-thirties with brown hair and eyes. He was slim and compact but his shoulders were square. It took Macen a moment, but he finally saw a hairline scar around the man's face and scalp.

"Dracas, you old dog!" Macen embraced his Chief Engineer then took a seat on one of the couches. Dracas chose a chair opposite him.

"Not so old any more." Dracas laughed.

"No." Macen shook his head, "I guess your time with the Baku did you well."

Dracas nodded, "More than physically. I've learned to accept myself, and to share that knowledge with others."

"No matter how you expect them to react?"

"Especially with how I expect them to react." Dracas said solemnly.

"Do you want your old job back?" Macen asked, "The crew's really missed you."

"What about Parva?" Dracas asked, "How she working out?"

"Parva's fine. Better than fine." Macen exuded, "She'd love to have you back too. She's always complaining how she's understaffed. Personally I think she thrives off it but it would be nice to have engineering covered 24 hours a day."

"All right." I'm in." Dracas said.

Macen rose and shook Dracas' hand, "You came back at just the right time. Everyone's aboard the _Solstice _packing for two weeks leave."

"Two weeks?" Dracas asked, "What's the occasion?"

"My honeymoon."

"You're married?"

Macen nodded, grinning like the proverbial Cheshire cat.

"To T'Kir?"

Macen's grin became a smile.

"Well _frinx_ me." Dracas said in disbelief, "I never thought it would happen. I knew you were serious enough but I never would have guessed T'Kir was that serious."

"Everyone has hidden depths Chief." Macen counselled philosophically, "Why don't you rejoin your crewmates and find out what their depths are."

"I think I might." Dracas grinned, "Thanks."

"Just remember you have two allies in T'Kir and I no matter what happens next."

"I will." Dracas said gratefully, "Thank you for everything you've already done for me."

Macen watched Dracas leave and silently wished him well. He didn't know an easy way to explain to Dracas that he was currently a nexus of probabilities. Macen couldn't determine why or see where the myriad paths would lead. He just hoped Dracas would listen to the Fates' guidance.

* * *

The identity of the guest waiting in his office surprised him. Amanda Drake sat upon his desk, casually trying to access his personal computer terminal.

"You won't have any luck." Macen informed her, "T'Kir personally devised the security and encryption protocols."

"Good to know." Drake smiled and removed herself from the desk, "Can't blame a gal for trying though."

"Why are you here, Amanda?" Macen asked, irritation in his voice, "Does Alynna know you're off the reservation?"

"Actually," Drake smiled, "I'm here at her behest." She handed Macen a padd, "Here's my authorisation and our offer for a contract with Outbound Ventures."

"A contract for what?" Macen asked warily.

"To once again be independent contracted privateers in the employ of Starfleet, specifically the Special Investigations Division of Starfleet Intelligence." Drake answered brightly.

"This has to some kind of _frinxing _joke." Macen replied angrily, "Three years ago, every captain and crew working for this company was dismissed from your employ for _political _reasons. Who's to say it won't happen again?"

"As Alynna and I tried to explain at your wedding, the political roadmap of Starfleet Command and the Council of Five has radically changed. The same voices that urged your dismissal have either rotated onto different posts or have been convinced of the necessity of utilising independent assets due to the SID's diminishing rate of closure on our various cases. The whole Division has been crippled. Our undercover operations are laughable at best. We need you, Brin. We need every captain under your corporate umbrella."

"We wouldn't demand or expect an exclusive contract. One or two ships always at our disposal, perhaps on a rotating basis?" she could tell Macen was at least weighing her offer, "There is one caveat to that last request. We insist that your crew always be one of the stand-by crews. You could take on low priority contracts between missions, ones easy to walk away from if necessary. We're willing to back up our offer with a new ship."

"I'm happy with the _Solstice_." Macen informed her.

"This is a _Nova_-class surveyor. She's practically custom built for investigative work. Far better than a jury rigged, outdated scoutship." Drake argued, "She's the _USS Obsidian_ and she'd be transferred into your ownership. We'd provide the bulk of the crewmen but they'd be your employees. You'd have access to the latest upgrades at the SPYards. With the _Nova-X_ concept modules being tested out and fitted, it would behove you to accept my offer. The _Solstice _would of course remain your property as well."

Macen set the padd down on his desk, "I'll peruse this and get back to you."

"Do have an ETA on your answer?"

"When I reply."

"Okay." Drake exhaled heavily, "I'll get out of your way then."

"D'you know the way out?"

"Yes," Drake answered, "I think so."

"Good." Macen replied, "You can see yourself out then."

Drake excused herself and Macen picked up the padd and began reading.

* * *

Dracas' return heralded a surprising range of emotions. Parva was apprehensive. Grace was pleased. Daggit was relieved that his friend was safe and had returned. Riker was jovial. Danan was warm and quietly encouraging. Kort was stone-faced. Radil was her usual curt self. T'Kir embraced him and whispered her well wishes in his ear before she left to pack for her trip.

"So," Grace asked excitedly, "what was it like?"

"Enlightening." Dracas said in exultation, "The Baku have mastered the art of living within a single moment. It's rather transcendental."

"What else did you learn?" Grace prodded.

"A lot about myself." Dracas looked about the expectant faces filling the bridge, "I learned to master some of my basic fears."

"Fears of what?" Daggit inquired.

"Of growing old and useless." Dracas gave his friend a lop-sided grin, "But mostly of revealing to you all that I'm a homosexual."

Kort and Parva visibly stiffened. Radil frowned. Grace looked slightly stunned. Danan beamed, proud of her friend's newfound courage. Riker looked about the room and grinned. Daggit's expression was blank, devoid of any emotion.

"I know this may prove a problem for some of you," Dracas pressed onward, "but I'm the same person you've always known."

"I think it's wonderful that you finally feel confident enough in yourself and the group to share something as your sexual identity." Danan announced.

"I think it's great you told us, Dracas." Riker said, extending his hand, "It explains a few mysteries."

Dracas shook Riker's hand, "Thanks. For being so understanding and accepting."

"Ah, _frinx_ it." Grace dropped her arms from their crossed position and slapped her thighs; "I just can't believe T'Kir kept this from me." She stepped forward and hugged Dracas, "I wish you the best, Chief."

Radil stepped forward, "You surprised me Chief, and that's hard to do. I have no hard feelings or resentments." She held out her hand as well. Dracas gladly accepted it.

Next he turned to Daggit, "Rab, I have to be honest. At first I became your friend because I was attracted to you. However, as our friendship developed, I realised we'd never have the relationship I'd originally sought and I no longer cared. Please don't be angry with me."

"How could I be angry with you?" Daggit replied and wrapped his arms around Dracas for a bone-popping hug. "You're one of my closest friends. I could never stay mad at you."

Dracas was close to tears as Daggit released him. "Thank you." he whispered hoarsely.

Dracas now turned to Kort and Parva, who were standing beside one another. Both looked at Dracas with distaste. Homosexuality was taboo in both the Klingon and Orion cultures, not unlike his native Troglyte society on Ardanna IV. Both looked at Dracas with open revulsion. Despite Parva's distaste for her native society, she had taken on some of its core mores. Kort, trying to exemplify the warrior code laid down by Kahless could not accept Dracas' revelation.

This saddened Dracas but some measure of rejection had been expected, even in a supposedly "enlightened" culture. El-Aurians, Humans and Trill had been the guaranteed positive votes seeing as how their cultures had long ago accepted the homosexual portions of their societies. Bajorans were fairly open and accepting but certain hardliners reviled "deviant" sexual identities. Angosians and Kelvans had been a complete mystery to him and could have swung either way.

As a rule, Vulcans disapproved of homosexuality but a small and increasingly vocal portion of the overall population had come "out of the closet", sometimes literally. T'Kir, in her ongoing quest to thumb her nose at typical Vulcan attitudes and in a search for personal development, instantly accepted Dracas' then-secret and assisted him in maintaining his façade.

Kort had been an assured reactionary. Klingons openly despised and reviled homosexuals as the Klingon equivalent of "girly men". Kort had always respected Dracas' talents but there'd been no love lost between them. He had no personal reasons to accept Dracas despite his revelation.

Parva had been the wildcard, and still was. Her years as a sex slave gave an empathy for those whose true sexual tastes are suppressed. She'd also worked with Dracas for a number of years before his transfer to the SPYards. Dracas sensed that her final opinion had not yet been formed. He still had time to sway her decision.

"So," Dracas broke the uncomfortable silence, "what's this about two week's shore leave?"

* * *

Riker and Jamie Kirk travelled together to Alaska. Riker intended to reconcile with his father, Kyle Riker, as his erstwhile "brother" already had. Grace, Radil, Daggit, Dracas and Parva had opted to take their leave time together on the ocean world of Pacifica. Danan had returned to Trill to visit family. Kort returned to rehab.

The aircar settled in the snow in front of Kyle Riker's home outside of Valdez, Alaska on Earth. Heart in his throat, Riker pressed the old-fashioned door buzzer. Kirk squeezed his hand and he felt reassured. Even if this reunion was a disaster, at least Jamie was here with him.

"Who is it?" Kyle Riker called out as he approached the door.

"Your son." Tom called back without specifying _which _son had arrived. Although Riker had memories of his father dated back to sixteen years ago, he'd made no attempt to contact him before now. In a very real sense, he'd never met them before now.

Kyle opened the door and saw Tom and broke into a huge grin, "Will! Come on in. It's freezing out there."

Tom stepped over the threshold, Jamie followed and Tom took a looked around the foyer as Kyle swung the door shut. Its ancient hinges squeaked as the door closed.

"I remember that." Tom said then sniffed the air, "And I remember _that_."

"You know Betty." Kyle laughed, referring to his maid. Betty Gandy had virtually served as Riker's mother after his real mother's death. "Always baking. Betty get out here, it's Will."

"Sir, I'm not who you think…" Tom tried to interject.

"And who's this?" Kyle said, appraising Jamie, "You married Deanna, what are doing with another woman? Are you having marital troubles already? I always told you you were a confirmed bachelor."

Betty had entered the room now, "Will, give me a hug."

Tom sighed and held his ground, "Look, I'm not who you think I am."

"What do you mean?" Kyle asked warily.

"Did Will ever discuss with you the transporter accident that created _two _William T. Rikers?"

"Of course." Kyle replied then his eyes widened, "Oh my God! You're the _other _one. You're _Thomas _Riker!"

"I'm Tom to my friends." Riker informed them.

"You left Starfleet and joined the Maquis." Kyle recounted, "You revealed the existence of the Obsidian Order's secret shipyards. Sadly, you were handed over to the Cardassian penal system as a reward for your efforts."

Kyle squared his shoulders, "I tried for two years to get you released, then the war started. When it ended, you were gone."

"Actually, I was gone before then." Tom revealed, "The Romulans liberated me. They then expected me to betray Starfleet but I refused. Will actually helped rescue me and I disappeared."

"Some could argue that you betrayed Starfleet when you joined the Maquis." Tom's eyes flashed and Kyle held a hand up, "Your refusal to assist the Romulans convinces me otherwise. However, that doesn't explain where you've been."

"I spent the war years as a charter shuttle pilot." Tom explained, "About a year after the war, a man named Brin Macen recruited me to serve as the first officer for his ship."

"And what kind of ship does he run?" Betty asked.

"He runs a security consultation firm, as well as privateer services for the Federation." Tom described Outbound Ventures, "We're based on Barrinor."

"If memory serves, that's outside the UFP." Kyle pointed out.

Tom nodded, "It expands our customer base. For the first three years after the crew was assembled their primary contract was with Starfleet Intelligence's Special Investigations Division."

"That's a heady position to be in." Kyle remarked.

"Not anymore." Tom sighed, "Approximately three years ago, the SID dismissed all their independently contracted crews. We've been completely independent ever since."

"Not entirely." a bemused Kirk said and poked Tom in the ribs.

"Excuse my manners, Miss." Kyle took her hand, "I'm Kyle Riker, and you are?"

"Jamie Kirk. I'm captain of the _SS George Kelly_." Jamie disclosed, "My ship and crew are part of the Outbound Ventures family."

"Interesting choice of names for your ship." Kyle said with a combination of amusement and curiosity.

"Jamie's Iotian." Tom divulged."

"Really?" Then we'll have lots to talk about." Kyle remarked with a gleam in his eye.

"Don't interrogate her, Dad." Tom said then caught himself, "Sorry. I didn't mean to impose."

Kyle took Tom by the shoulders and then wrapped his arms around him, "As far as I'm concerned you're as much my son as Will. I hope you will consider me your parent."

Tom fought back tears, "You don't know what that means."

"Let's find out together." Kyle promised him.

Betty was fighting back tears herself. Jamie took her by the elbow, "C'mon Ms. Gandy, tell me all the wicked stories of Tom's childhood."

Betty patted Jamie's arm, "Call me Betty."

Jamie locked eyes with Kyle as Betty led her to the kitchen, "And I look forward to our conversation. I'll tell you all I know.

When the two women had departed, Kyle looked into his son's face, "That one's a keeper, Will…I mean Tom."

Tom grinned, "Don't worry. There are days I still find myself thinking of myself as Will Riker."

"Do you think it will ever change?"

Tom shrugged, "It's easier now but there'll always be days. There's too many memories as _Will _Riker. But I've also made sixteen years of memories as _Tom _Riker. Eventually, There'll be more memories as Thomas Riker and it'll be easy to distinguish my identity."

"Here's to that day." Kyle gripped Tom's arm, "Now how about a Saurian brandy?"

Riker smiled broadly, "That sounds perfect."


	8. Chapter 8

121

Pacifica was a rare gem. It was the only world in the explored galaxy to consist entirely of oceans. Land dwellers could only survive by virtue of the massive floating cities that led to underwater facilities generally built near Pacifican cities. The tourist trade was brisk and accounted for 75% of the Gross National Product.

"Hey Rab!" Grace called out, "Watch this!" Grace nosed her Seadoo vertically into the water and submerged. Several moments later, she erupted from the water several yards from her insertion point. Daggit shook his head.

"Too fancy for me."

Parva gunned her watercraft and shot forward. She aimed for a ramp sticking out of the water. She flew into the air, shifting her weight so that the miniboat began to spin. She landed with a tremendous splash and spun around until she lost momentum and ramped up the throttle. She then sped away from her landing pointing, leaving a concentric wake.

"Woo hoo!" Grace pumped her fist in the air and gunned forward. Parva came

about and aimed for a course beside Grace. They passed and slapped their hands together. Parva then turned around and came up beside Daggit.  
"Risky." Daggit commented on their last manoeuvre.

Parva shrugged then grinned, "Nothin' any other bold, courageous, daredevil of a fem wouldn't have done."

"Yeah, right." Daggit said with a lopsided grin.

"You should do that more often." Parva suddenly said.

"Do what?"

"Smile." she explained, "You're actually quite a handsome man when you're not Mr. Death and Destruction."

"And when I am?"

"You're kinda scary, but nothing I haven't faced before." a cloud passed over her

features and Daggit winced.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to bring up any unpleasant memories."

"Are you gonna ignore most of life?" she wondered.

"I suppose not."

"Good." Parva lifted her chin defiantly, "I've faced my demons, just as you have.

I've survived, so will you."

"What demons?" Daggit inquired, "Mine, I mean. We can discuss yours but you seem reluctant."

"Its not time yet." Parva admitted, "As far as you go, you've shovelled _shuk _

across two life or death conflicts. You've buried friends and countless opponents. You spent ten years in prison because your home planet didn't know what t'do with you. You've lost multiple relationships and your fondest wish is to find a woman that understands your inner turmoil."

"You've been talking to Hannah." he accused, "I'm going to have to talk with that girl."

"She only told me what she thought was good for you." Parva grew intent, "I want to help you, Rab."

"Hey partner!" Radil called out as shed pulled alongside, "C'mon, daylight's burning."

Radil shot off and Daggit grinned at Parva, "Well, I guess we've been summoned.

As Daggit followed Radil, Parva bobbed in place. Dracas pulled up alongside her. Although civil to her nominal superior, Parva had remained distant from her former mentor. Silently, Parva wondered why the man couldn't take a hint.

"So, how long have you been pining away for him?" Dracas asked.

"What?" Parva recoiled.

"Rab." Dracas offered as way of explanation, "You've got it bad and it's starting to show."

Panicked, Parva forgot her distaste for Dracas, "D'you think he's noticed?"

"No." Dracas grinned, "Rab's rather thick when it comes to matters of the heart."

"How do you know?" she inquired suspiciously.

"You look at him like I used to." Dracas admitted.

The sudden reminder of Dracas' sexual "deviancy" was a slap in Parva's face,

"Hal…I know I've been a regular bitch, but what you told us. It's a little hard for me to accept. It won't affect our working relationship but it'll take _me_ some time to get used to it. Who knows? I might even come to accept it."

Dracas nodded, "Fair enough. Now that we've played true confessions, what d'you say we catch up with those bums that ditched us?"

Parva graced him with a full smile, "You're on."

* * *

Riker and Kirk had been on Earth for three days now. During the day, they explored Terra's wonders. At night they returned to Alaska and Riker's parents. That was until tonight. Today they were in the French Quarter of New Orleans, dining at Sisko's. Afterwards they were headed for Paris.

They held hands over the table while they waited for the food. Riker was excited…yet nervous as well. Jamie wondered what could be bothering him. The time with his parents was going better than hoped.

A waiter appeared at the edge of the table and laid two plates on it. Jamie closed

her eyes and took in the succulent, spicy aroma and smiled. She opened her eyes and gazed deeply into Riker's eyes.

"The food on your planet is so rich." she marvelled, "I'm going to get fat."

"No worries there." Riker assured her, "Even if you did, I'd still love you."

Jamie felt herself blush. She was embarrassed. It was rather unseemly for a starship captain to flush over a compliment. She was used to dealing with life or death decisions on a daily basis for the love of the Sacred Pages.

Later, they travelled to Paris and went walking along a walking path alongside the Seine. Various restaurants and cafes were open but their sumptuous meal clung to their ribs. Riker stopped and drew Jamie to the rail.

"Close your eyes." he whispered into her ear.

"Is this going to get…oh, what's the word…kinky?"

"Possibly." she could hear Riker's grin even with her eyes closed.

"Stay here." Riker instructed and moved away from Kirk.

"Okay, you can open your eyes."

Jamie looked around and found him on the other side of a bench. Riker's eyes were bright and expectant. He smiled warmly at her. Their eyes locked and held each other.

Riker's gaze averted from her's and shifted to a spot on the bench between them.

Sitting between them was a small, velvet box. Riker urged her on with a hand gesture. Flabbergasted, Jamie picked up the diminutive parcel. She opened it and beheld the most beautiful fire gem solitaire she'd ever seen. For magnificence it rivalled T'Kir's 1-karat emerald.

Riker knelt down beside her, "That ring symbolises my unending love for you.

Will you marry me?"

"By the Book!" Kirk exclaimed, "I don't know what to say."

"Whatever you feel." Riker assured her, "I'll understand either way."

"Then yes!" Jamie wrapped her arms around his neck and drew him down for a

kiss, "My answer's yes!"

"Wait `till we tell Betty and Dad." Riker grinned.

"Will they approve?" Jamie frowned with worry.

"Are you kidding?" Riker laughed, "They've been trying to convince me to do this very thing ever since they met you."

Kirk was visibly relieved, "Good. I like your family. I've already lost one

family. I don't think I could bear losing another one."

"Don't worry." Riker promised her, "You're already family. This'll just make it official."

She held him tightly and didn't let go for a very long time. Riker wrapped his arms around her and enjoyed her embrace. It was a perfect moment with the perfect woman. When they separated, they walked hand in hand to the closest public transporter station. Their destination was Valdez, where they could pick up their aircar and return to the Riker house.

* * *

"Rab," Radil asked as she caught Daggit exiting his room, "do you have a moment?"

"Certainly." he replied. The Outbound Ventures group had been on Pacifica for a week now. Dracas and Daggit had discovered the virtues of volleyball on the resort's artificial beach. Today, Daggit and Dracas' latest victims were to be Grace and Parva.

"Can we talk on the way to the volleyball courts?" Daggit inquired, "The others are expecting me."

"I'd prefer to do this in private." Radil said, "I promise it'll only take a moment or two."

Daggit re-entered his suite and ushered Radil in. Radil sat down on the couch provided for him and patted on the cushion for Radil to join him. Radil sat down and faced him, nervous anticipation across her features. Daggit could not recall ever seeing her this skittish.

"Jenrya, what's wrong?" Daggit asked, concerned.

"Nothing." Radil sighed, "Everything." She rose from the couch and began to pace, "Three years ago, I had to make a choice between committing to Kort or pursuing you. I chose the safe bet. I've since discovered that I made a mistake. I'd like a chance to rectify that mistake."

Daggit rose from the couch, his features carved from stone, "Not a chance in hell."

"What?" a dumbfounded Radil blurted.

"Three years ago, you made a choice," Daggit responded flatly, "and so did I. I'm done with waiting on you. I won't be a party to your flighty, tornado-like approach to relationships. "I've made my peace with the decisions that were made. I suggest you do the same and move on."

Radil looked shocked. If Daggit were a vindictive man, he'd have enjoyed her expression. As it was, he was deeply satisfied to have the matter out in the open.

"What are you going to do?" Radil snarled venomously, "Run into Grace's arms, or have you done that already?"

Radil could see the rage mounting in his features, clouding his eyes.

"Get out." he said with cold precision, just as he did when he was in his "killing" mode.

Radil half ran towards the door and scooted down the outer hallway as fast as decorum would allow. Daggit stared at the closed door for a moment and then left. He needed to get away, to take time to think. The confrontation he'd long dreaded had finally occurred and he needed to reassure himself he'd done the right thing.

* * *

Several hours later, at a bar across town, Parva strolled in and saw Daggit at the counter.

"Hey, Sailor," she said with a warm smile, "new in town?"

Blearily, Daggit turned to her, "I want to be alone."

"That much is obvious, chum." Parva replied, "It's taken me the better part of the day to find you."

"Good." Daggit said with satisfaction.

"Listen," Parva began slowly, "Radil told us what happened, and your reaction to her 'suggestion'."

"_Frinxing _bitch should've kept it private." Daggit slurred, "Between us, y'know?"

Parva nodded solemnly, "I understand. I also understand that you could use some sobering up and then some cheering up. Let's get you back to our hotel and get you some tri-ox."

"How'll that make me sober?" Daggit shook his head.

"It won't." Parva admitted, "But it will eliminate the hangover."

"Sounds good." Daggit replied and pointed towards the door, "Lead on!"

Parva draped his arm over her shoulder and lifted. Her high gravity bred muscles easily supported his weight. She carried him back to the hotel and stopped in his room, she administered a tri-ox hypo and sat back. She was tempted to leave but even more tempted to stay. _He needs someone to watch over him, _she told herself; _I'll stay until he wakes up and see if he's ready to talk then._

* * *

Jamie stretched out in the bed beside Tom. They'd been with his father for a week now. Every day was spent learning about his native planet. The evenings were spent discussing interstellar politics with Kyle Riker or wedding plans with Betty. Will and Deanna had largely planned their own ceremony. The participation being accorded them was important to the "family".

Jamie was grateful for Betty's insights and Kyle's attention to detail. She could lay out a complicated fleet manoeuvre but selecting a flattering wedding gown was beyond her capabilities. Kirk had worn a uniform of some kind since she was a teenager. Civilian attire, especially from an alien culture as diverse as the Federation, was a complete enigma to her.

"Don't worry." Tom said, eyes closed, "Everything will be taken care of. Just relax and enjoy it."

"Easy for you to say." Kirk protested, "_I'm _used to being the one in charge. On this, even you are taking more of an active role then me."

Riker rolled onto his side, "Is that a problem?"

"No." she admitted, "It's just strange. I'm a starship commander for Godfather's sake. You'd think I could select my own invitations."

"The choices are ultimately yours. Remember that and follow your instincts." Riker advised, "Everybody else is just offering suggestions. Well, except for Dad. He's preparing the invitations and the venue. Once we decide where that is, of course."

Kirk frowned, "How are we going to manage a marriage between two ships?"

Riker smiled, "Its been done before. Besides, Outbound Ventures ships are generally in the same vicinity far more often then Starfleet or any military service."

"You've thought this out haven't you?" Jamie smiled.

"Of course I have." Riker grinned.

"Have you given any thought as to how to spend this morning?" she asked coyly.

"As a matter of fact, I have." I was hoping to prove my endurance to you in a

ritualistic test of sexual prowess."

"Yum!" Jamie happily replied, "I like it. You have my permission to proceed.

One thought though, have you considered locking the door?"

"Already done. I did it while we were going to bed."

"Then get over here and ravish me."

"As you command Milady."

* * *

Outside the room, Kyle Riker had his ear pressed to the door.

"Kyle, you old pervert!" Betty scolded, "Give the children some privacy."

"But…"

"No buts." Betty said forcefully, "I have breakfast ready and you're going to eat some of it. Afterwards you're going to town to run some errands for me."

Defeated, Kyle's shoulders slumped, "Yes, ma'am."

* * *

Daggit awoke and realised he was back in his room. The next thing he realised was that an arm was wrapped around his torso. He warily looked down and saw an emerald limb holding onto him. Cautiously, he crept out of the bed.

He discovered he was naked, and from what he could see of Parva, so was she.

Daggit silently swore and tried to recall how he'd ended up in this situation. He remembered being in the bar and Parva coming to retrieve him. Slowly, ever so slowly, he began to recollect what had transpired.

_Oh my gods!_ Daggit thought, horrified, _The things we did!_

"Trying to get a handle on the moment?" Parva asked, the sheet falling to her waist.

"You seduced me!" Daggit accused.

"You didn't think so last night." Parva replied matter-of-factly, "In fact, you made the first move. Pretty aggressively as I recall."

_Oh shuk!_ Daggit remembered the events of the previous night.

"Look," Parva said, "I'm not looking for anything. I'd love for something to happen between us but I can live without that. In the interim, how about being friends that have sex?"

"Don't humans refer to that as 'hooking up'?"

Parva shrugged, "I'm not all that familiar with human slang. I know abbreviations and contractions. That's it. Now, what d'you ya say to my proposal?"

"Can I think about it?"

"Sure. And as far as your concerns on how I'd react to your 'programming', I've seen you at your worst and you're still more humane than some of my former masters." Parva rose and the sheet fell from her. Daggit could see every supple curve of her muscular body.

"Just don't take forever. I could go crazy with desire." Parva dressed while Daggit watched speechlessly.

She glanced over her shoulder as she got to the door, "I have to tell you though, you were the best I ever had."

Daggit found his voice, "I'm flattered, about everything. I have to admit, you were magnificent yourself."

"Just remember that while you're making your decision." With a wink, she was gone. Daggit sat down on the bed and took a deep breath.

"What am I going to do?" he asked himself.

* * *

Daggit met Dracas at the volleyball court for their regular time. They were next in line to play. Dracas smiled at Daggit.

"Parva looks content." he said suggestively, "And I noticed she was wearing the same clothes as yesterday as she headed for her room. Her hair was also tousled. Care to explain any of this?"

Daggit felt himself colour but tried to bluff, "What makes you think I know anything about it?"

"C'mon Rab." Dracas argued, "I know how she feels about you."

"For how long?"

"Since I got back."

"Is my personal life being broadcast on the Federation News Service now?" an exasperated Daggit inquired.

"Relax." Dracas assured his friend, "She was mum until I confronted her about it. So, what did she say on the morning after?"

"That she wants to keep things loose for awhile. She'd like a serious relationship someday but will understand if I can't commit." Daggit said incredulously, "She's given me some time to think about it and to get back to her."

"Sounds like your dream relationship."

"That's just it." Daggit shook his head, "Its _too _perfect."

"Are you completely mental?" Dracas demanded, "She's abstained for you. Do you have any idea how rare that is among Orion women? She loves you, with all her heart. She knows your darker side and will embrace it. You won't _ever _find a woman this perfect again. You'd be a fool to pass this chance up."

"So," Daggit replied wryly, "tell me what you _really _think."

"It's your fault I get this worked up." Dracas accused.

"I know." Daggit admitted then gestured towards the volleyball court, "We're up."

"About time." Dracas grumped and stalked onto the sand.

* * *

Later that evening, Parva waited at a table at the city's finest restaurant. Daggit had commed her room and left a message requesting that she meet him here. She'd arrived early and was now sitting at his reserved table, heart in her throat. Her heart skipped a beat when Daggit entered the room.

She'd worn a sparkling chiffon gown and he'd worn his Starfleet dress uniform. As a reserve officer, he still had the privilege of donning Starfleet's finest. He sat down across the table from her and placed his hands on the table.

"Have you ordered?" he asked.

Parva shook her head, not trusting her voice.

A waiter approached the table and Daggit ordered wine and an appetizer. When

the waiter left, Daggit intently focused on Parva.

"Give me your hands." he instructed and she complied.

"I've thought about what you said," Daggit flashed her a lop-sided grin, "and having been kicked in the posterior by some friends." Grace had echoed Dracas' advice when queried.

"And the short version is: I think it would be a wonderful idea." Parva broke into a beautiful smile and released the breath she'd been holding, "I admire you Parva. I always have. I also respect you, both as a professional and as a person. I'd be honoured and lucky to enter into a relationship with you."

If it was possible, Parva's smile widened and grew brighter. Daggit continued,

"We'd have to start out pretty casual at first, at least until we know each other better. We wouldn't start off at the place that the Captain and T'Kir are, or Commander Riker and Captain Kirk. But in time, I think we can get there."

Tears appeared at the corners of Parva's eyes. The waiter returned and hesitated.

"Is this a bad time?"

"No." Daggit replied, "We have to eat sometime."

"All right." he laid the plates down, "Have you had time to decide?"

Daggit turned to Parva, "Are you ready?"

She dabbed her eyes and shook her head. Daggit smiled apologetically, "Can you give us another moment?"  
"Certainly." he said as he left.

"Are you all right?" Daggit asked Parva.

"I've never been so happy!" she bawled, "Its overwhelming!"

Daggit took her hands, "We'll embrace it together."

That brought on a new round of tears.


	9. Chapter 9

136

Macen and T'Kir had enjoyed a week and a half of their vacation on Midgard. It was a temperate class-M world with a full range of seasons. It possessed four interconnected continents of varying size. Roughly 67.9% of the planet was covered by water, all of that by only one ocean. The vast majority of the water was to be found in small to massive freshwater lakes. The largest of which was nearly the size of Earth's Caribbean.

The northern oceanic coastline was rugged, largely consisting of fjords. The south was dominated by kilometres of pristine beaches. The interior of most of the continents was dominated by lush vegetation. One northern continent consisted of coniferous and deciduous forests. The other northern continent was closer to the artic circle and was primarily tundra. One southern continent was rain forest while the other was jungle. High desert separated the northern and southern continents.

Macen and T'Kir had reserved a cabin near one of the major forests on the wooded northern continent. They'd spent their time so far sailing, hiking, and exploring the banks of the lake and the course of the tributary feeding the lake. It had been a special time, relaxing in every way. It was a tonic that helped begin the healing process of the scars left by Adrya's acts of vengeance.

Tonight, it was dusk and T'Kir had no idea where Macen was. _Brin, _she thoughtcast, _where are you? _There was no response. _Damn the man and his ability to block my telepathy._ she fumed

Originally, this trait had been the primary draw for her. Filled with the thoughts of those around her, it had been nice to meet someone who was "safe". However, it was a gift that had its drawbacks. _Like now, _T'Kir thought to herself.

Her sensitive hearing picked up footsteps coming up the trail that led to a nearby glen. As Macen stepped into the light of the porch, he looked inordinately pleased with himself.

"Where have you been?" T'Kir demanded, "I've been worried sick!"

"I've been setting up a surprise." Macen explained, "A cosy dinner for two."

"Really?" T'Kir's stern mien melted away.

"Certainly." Macen extended his hand, "If you'd accompany me Milady."

Blushing, T'Kir took his hand and wondered just what the hell she was getting into.

Just after Macen and T'Kir left sight of the cabin, T'Kir noticed that candles to either side of it illuminated the walkway. She looked to Macen but he ushered forward with his arm wrapped around her waist. They walked several more metres before coming upon a small glen in the forest. Candles were carefully placed all over, on the ground, in the boughs of trees and on rocks. In the centre of the candlelit glow was a basket atop a stack of blankets and some cushions.

"Elements Brin," T'Kir was nearly speechless, "this is beautiful!"

"Here's the best part," Macen grinned and pointed to the sky, "look up."

T'Kir complied and was treated to a rare sight. Nearly every corner of the night sky seemed filled by twinkling lights. Midgard's minimal development allowed it to remain a preserve for natural beauty. T'Kir kneeled down next to the basket and lifted the lid. Rich aromas wafted out from it."

"Where did you get this?"

"I had a caterer from Valhalla deliver it while you were taking a bath." Macen explained.

"Brin! That must have cost a fortune!"

"It was a relay transport to the _Corsair's _transporter." Macen shrugged, "Besides, I'm independently wealthy now. I might as well use it wisely."

"This is wisely?"

"I think so." he laid down beside her and propped his head up on his hand, "Indulging one's wife is an occasional necessity."

"Only occasionally?" T'Kir challenged.

"Sure." Macen grinned, "I wouldn't want you to think I was a softy."

T'Kir lunged atop Macen and began tickling him, "I'll _show _you what I think of you."

"No fair." Macen chortled, "You're three times stronger than me."

"Sounds fair t'me." T'Kir declared and pressed on.

After their meal, Macen and T'Kir wrapped themselves in one of the blankets and watched the stars. T'Kir was nestled into his body as he leaned against a rock next to their picnic spot. He had his head atop hers and his arms wrapped around her.

"They look different from here, don't they?" T'Kir sighed.

"Yeah," Macen agreed, "we get so wrapped up in our 'busy' lives that we forget to take a moment to just sit back and take in the wonder of the universe we live in."

"You do realise that most of that universe is actively trying to kill us?" T'Kir leaned her head further back to emphasise her point, "The environment of space itself is lethal."

"Doesn't mean we can't enjoy its beauty." Macen countered.

"You, Brin Macen, are a hopeless romantic." T'Kir proclaimed.

"And you're just figuring this out?" Macen chuckled, "Where've you been for the last twelve years?"

She hit his leg, "Of course I've known it, stupid. That was one of the main reasons I fell in love with you."

"And here I thought it was because of my incredible charm and charisma." Macen teased.

"Charm?" T'Kir laughed mischievously, "I don't think so. I might give you charisma…on occasion."

"Thanks." Macen said and squeezed her.

As Macen released her, T'Kir sighed, "I wish this could last forever."

"It can at least last through the night." Macen suggested.

"What?"

"You've never gone camping?"

T'Kir shook her head and Macen shook his head, "That settles it. We're staying out here tonight."

"But what about the cold?" T'Kir protested, "I come from a desert dwelling people after all."

"Shial wasn't a desert. More like a tropical rain forest." he countered.

"It was still warm."

"We have the blankets. They're rated for minus 75 Celsius. I think that should keep us warm."

"What about bugs?" T'Kir asked, playing her ace in the hole, "And spiders. Don't forget about spiders."

"Already taken care of." Macen grinned, "I activated the ultrasonic bug repellor before dinner. No insect will enter its field, from above, on the ground, in the air, or below the ground. Have we been bother by a single insect while we've been here?"

"No." T'Kir reluctantly admitted, "But I didn't bring any night clothes."

Knowing her night clothes consisted of little more than linen pyjamas, Macen shook his head, that's what underwear is for."

"You're lucky I'm wearing some."

"I would have been just as happy the other way."

T'Kir punched his leg again, "Ow!"

"Mind your manners." T'Kir replied haughtily, "I'm a virtuous, upstanding woman now that I'm married."

"As if." Macen said dismissively, "You're still a kinky trollop at heart…and I love you for it."

T'Kir nestled in closer, "Now _that's _why I married you. You always know what to say t'me."

* * *

The next morning, they slowly rose. Macen had set up a small heater the night before. Despite the device's best efforts, T'Kir still complained of the cool morning air after Macen ripped the blankets off of her.

They dressed, packed the gear and the candles into a duffel Macen had secreted behind their stargazing rock and set off for the cabin. They stopped every metre or so to collect a candle. They'd picked up the last pair of candles when the cabin loomed in sight. T'Kir suddenly pulled Macen into the brush.

"Shhh!" she held her finger to her lips and closed her eyes.

_What's up? _Macen broadcast telepathically.

_Someone's in the cabin,_ her eyes narrowed, _and more are prowling about around it._

_How many? _T'Kir could feel Macen's mind preparing plans and contingencies.

She frowned and shook her head in frustration, _I can't tell. They've found some way to block my telepathy._

_That doesn't bode well. _Macen thought sourly, _Ferengi?_

_No._ T'Kir replied, _I can overhear a language I don't understand._

_ Let me hear it. _Macen requested. T'Kir linked her senses to his and he could hear through her ears. What he heard caused him to swear.

_Damn it all!_ he fumed, _I was afraid of this after how our wedding went._

_ What?_ a baffled T'Kir wondered.

_It's an Orion trade language. The Orion Syndicate has arrived, and in force._ Macen explained, his anger transmitting across their link.

_Oh, _frinx _it all._ T'Kir complained, _Why can't these bastards leave us alone?"_

_ They don't know how. _Macen thought flatly.

_So now what?_ she asked.

Macen removed the strap of the duffel off his shoulder, _Reach into the bag and look for a closed medium sized pocket._

_Found it._ T'Kir declared as she extracted two phaser pistols.

_There's four powerpacks as well._ Macen informed her.

T'Kir removed them and shook her head while wearing a wry smile, _Expecting this were you?_

Macen shrugged, _After the disaster at the wedding and our subsequent action against Adrya, I thought the Syndicate might come looking for us._

_Good thinking,_ T'Kir thought proudly, _so now what?_

_ How about we introduce ourselves?_

_ You're nuts._ T'Kir observed, _I like it. Let's do it!_

_ You've gotta admit, _Macen concurred, _it has the virtue of not being expected._

_ How are we gonna do it?_

_ We walk right up the front door and kick it open. _Macen answered, _Once the shooting starts it'll just be like old times._

Macen and T'Kir strolled down clearing that led to the cabin. Their hands, carrying their phasers, were behind their backs. T'Kir mentally nudged Macen.

_We've been spotted, _she informed him, _there's a lot of comm chatter._

_ Good. _Macen replied with a feral growl, _Just remember, we only need one alive._

_For disturbing my honeymoon? _T'Kir growled in return, _You'll be lucky to get _one_._

T'Kir could feel Macen's laugh as they stepped onto the front porch. Macen brought his hands forward and gripped his phaser with two hands, the left supporting the wrist of the right hand. T'Kir was a mirror image of her husband. Macen kicked the door in and raised his phaser. The door swung open on its hinges and stayed that way.

A surly looking Klingon was in the living room. He was grabbing for his disruptor when Macen pivoted and shot him. From behind and to Macen's right, T'Kir fired and gunned down the Miradorn in the kitchen. A great wailing cry echoed throughout the cabin. The Miradorn's twin came rushing out of the bedroom and down the hallway. Macen and T'Kir simultaneously dispatched him.

"Sucks to be a twin." T'Kir remarked.

T'Kir's head snapped around and she dove atop Macen, "Down!"

The wall beside where they'd been standing exploded. A Cardassian leapt through the hole and was shot by T'Kir as she rolled off of Macen. Macen pushed himself up onto his knees and then rolled forward. As he rolled, he snapped off a shot at the Tellarite at the open door. He missed but it gave T'Kir the opportunity to finish scrambling up on one knee and take aim at the porcine mob enforcer.

Macen got to his feet, sweeping the area with his phaser, "How many?"

"At least six more." T'Kir informed him, "They're repositioning."

"What I'd give for those ears of yours."

"You've got me." T'Kir's smile was brilliant, "That's even better."

Macen grinned and nodded, "It certainly is."

T'Kir moved behind the couch and crouched there. Macen stood in front of the fireplace. Two more gangsters attempted to rush them via the open hole and the door. They were quickly put down. T'Kir flashed a mental warning to Macen and covered her ears as she buried her head in the couch cushions. Macen crouched down beside the fireplace and tried to use the mantle for protection.

Another explosion rocked the house as the wall across the room exploded. A Troglyte burst only to be put down by Macen.

"You okay?" he called out to T'Kir.

"Yah," she replied with a shake of her head, "but there goes our friggin' security deposit."

Macen almost burst into laughter. Only T'Kir would come up with something so…_random_ in a gunfight to the death. Macen focused himself. If T'Kir's estimate had been correct, there were still three of them out there. _At least three, _he mentally corrected himself, _and they can attack us from three directions at once._

"T'Kir," he yelled out, "Watch our new hole and blast any unwanted 'guests'."

"You've got it!" she replied fiercely.

Macen turned his attention to the two openings on the other side of the living room and foyer. A heartbeat later, T'Kir fired. Two shapes appeared in Macen's area of coverage. He fired at the being coming through the door. Even as he/she fell, Macen pivoted and fired on the human rushing him.

As soon as the one at the door another person rushed into the room. As they ran across the space separating them from Macen, Macen swung his phaser around. The woman, for Macen had identified the blur as a woman by now, leapt up over the couch and kicked his phaser out of his hand. Even as she landed, she spun and threw a punch at Macen. He managed to both dodge her blow and twist her arm into a restraint. With a grunt the woman ran halfway up the fireplace wall and kicked off into a somersault, releasing the pressure on her elbow and wrist.

Macen was amazed but hated to admit it. As the woman assumed a loose fighting stance Macen could see the telltale scar on her right temple. It was an Angosian cortical implant scar. He was fighting a damned super soldier. He hoped his years of sparring with Rab Daggit could help him now.

_Only I've never beaten Rab. _Macen thought miserably. The other oddity that Macen finally noticed was that all of the criminals, fallen and living alike, were wearing some kind of helmet. It resembled the helmets worn by the enlisted ranks of the Magna Roman armies. He wondered if the helmet was somehow blocking T'Kir's telepathy.

T'Kir turned to see what was happening to Macen. _Brin! _she thoughtcast. While she was distracted, a Romulan entered through the opening she was supposed to be covering. T'Kir turned to see the Romulan charging down on her. He batted her phaser away even as she tried to bring it to bear. T'Kir responded with an elbow jab, which the Romulan blocked and then extended his raised hand and smacked her in the face.

_Ooookay, _T'Kir took a step back and reassessed her opponent, _so our boy knows how to fight._

The Romulan raised one leg up and bent the standing leg at the knee. His hands were curved out from over his head. _Oh crap!_ T'Kir thought miserably, _I only know the basic forms of Romulan martial arts, basic street fighting skills. This dude's a master of one of the arcane forms. I'm toast._

* * *

Thus far, Macen had held his own against the mysterious Angosian…barely.

She fired off quick jabs seconds apart. Macen had successfully blocked every punch till now. He'd finally deduced a pattern in her attack and was ready for the next strike.

The woman fired off a punch from her shoulder. Macen turned sideways to it and wrapped his arm around hers. Hyper-extending her elbow, Macen landed several blows to her ribs and face.

She responded by setting feet forward and back. She heaved back and then threw from the hip. Macen was tossed off her arm and into the mantle. Her next punch came sailing in. Macen ducked to the side and she hit the rock face of the chimney.

Ignoring the pain in her hand, she snapped off a backhanded swipe. Macen ducked and came up and punched her in the face. She spun and threw another punch. Macen stepped back and then surged forward as her force was spent and delivered a right cross.

Macen knew this was a losing battle. He would tire far more swiftly then his augmented opponent. Her adrenalin would propel her until he was defeated…or dead. He needed to get to his phaser and hit her with a blast set on maximum power. Nothing else would stop her.

Macen's realisation cost him a half a second's response time. Her fist smashed into his face and his knees buckled. Macen landed on his butt and looked up at his opponent. She was in a ready fighting stance and as emotionless as when they'd begun. _It's like fighting a damned robot. _he thought sourly then noticed his phaser was within arm's reach.

The Angosian noticed this even as Macen had. Macen rolled and snatched at the phaser. The female enforcer dove for the weapon as well. For once, she was too late. Macen pressed the barrel of the phaser to her chest and fired. The woman spasmed then went limp. Macen checked her pulse. She was dead. He slowly rose to his feet and saw how T'Kir was faring.

* * *

Despite her fears, T'Kir's street fighting style was actually keeping her foe at bay. He was far more used to elegant attacks and counter-moves. Her simple, brutal approach took him aback.

At first, T'Kir had held the advantage. Now she was realising, to her dismay, that the Romulan had been holding back, testing her skills. He began his serious assault with a reverse wheel kick followed by a punch. An elbow strike immediately followed the punch and was followed up by a jump kick.

T'Kir was driven back until she her legs hit the couch. _Oh _shuk_, _she thought bitterly, _This is gonna hurt._

_ Duck!_ she heard in her mind and she instantly obey. As she dove for the floor a phaser blast lanced across the room and struck the Romulan assassin in the chest. He fell to the floor, lifeless. While she down on the floor, she retrieved her phaser. Macen strode over and helped her up.

She saw the bruise forming on his jaw, "How bad is it?"

"I won't want to move for a week," he admitted, "but I'll survive."

T'Kir cocked her head to one side and sighed, "Oh hell! There's more of them."

"Back to back?" Macen asked.

"Sounds good." T'Kir agreed, "Same set-up?"

"Let's do it." Macen nodded.

No sooner had they finished discussing their defensive strategy then three hit men appeared in the three openings to the cabin. An explosion rocked the cabin and two more hit men appeared from the hallway. Macen and T'Kir raised their phasers.

"I strongly suggest you leave." Macen urged them.

"Or what?" a scarred human asked.

"You'll all die." Macen said coldly, "Just as your comrades already have."

"Go ahead." the man sneered, "Kill me."

Macen's finger began to depress the trigger when T'Kir screamed and went to her knees, clutching her head. Psychic feedback from their telepathic link seared Macen's brain. They both writhed on the floor before passing out from the agony they'd endured.

The surrounding hit men smiled with satisfaction even as a massive figure ducked to enter the room. He had to turn sideways pass his broad shoulders through the doorway. A stunted Ferengi followed him.

"See?" the Ferengi said gleefully, "I told you my psionic disruptor would work. No telepath is safe from it or immune to its effects."

"Yes, Doctor." a rumbling bass replied, "You have done excellent work."

The hulking figure turned to the Angosian woman who was rising from the carpet, "Are you all right, Annika?"

"Embarrassed but otherwise alive." Annika answered.

"Good." he rumbled, "Kill Doctor Lat for me."

"No!" the Ferengi squealed and ran towards the door. Annika removed a small disruptor from the small of her back and shot Lat in the back. The massive Orion clapped his hands together.

"Excellent! Secure our prisoners and let's leave this mud ball of a world. Annika, you're with me."

Annika Ryst suppressed a shudder and dutifully followed her employer out the door.


	10. Chapter 10

151

Amanda Drake sat down behind her desk and sipped at her steaming mug of coffee that her aide, Ambril Delori, had left for her. She picked up the topmost padd from the stack Ambril had arranged for and began reading field reports and situation analyses. She'd barely managed to finish the first end of mission report when Ambril buzzed her.

"Admiral," Ambril's tone was all business, "you have an incoming message marked as 'urgent'."

"Transfer it to my screen." Drake ordered. Her desktop viewer's image shifted from the UFP symbol to that of an inordinately smug Orion.

"Attention Admiral Drake of the Special Investigations Division." the Orion rumbled, "I have two of your agents. I think you may want them back. Before you decide, let me show who we are discussing."

The Orion stepped aside to reveal Macen and T'Kir bound and strapped to metal body moulds. Drake could only image what those were used for in a culture as decadent as the Orions'. Drake stabbed a finger to a button on her desk.

"Ambril, have this transmission traced to its source."

"Yes, ma'am." came Ambril's reply.

"As you can see," the Orion resumed as he stepped in front of the imager, "I have your best. I suggest you meet my demands or they will surely die. Who knows?" The Orion grinned evilly, "They may die anyway."

The transmission terminated and her screen instantly reverted to the UFP symbol.

Drake stabbed at her intercom, "Tell me we got that."

"The comm centre reports the transmission came out of Rigel X." Ambril informed her.

"Prep a team and dispatch them to Rigel X." Drake ordered, "I'll prepare their orders and transmit them en route."

"Yes, ma'am."

"And Ambril?"

"Ma'am?"

"Find me Tom Riker."

"_Yes, ma'am!_"

* * *

Seven hours later, the SID's Chief Intelligence Analyst and the Chief of Operations sat before Drake.

"Report gentlemen." Drake commanded.

The CIA spoke first, "Our action team tracked down the source of the transmission. It was a communications relay array orbiting Rigel X. The message was a 'canned' message, pre-recorded and transmitted to the relay for delivery to its final destination."

"I know what a canned message is, Captain." Drake said irritably, "What I want to know is can we trace the message any further?"

The CIA shook his head sadly, "Judging by the subspace bandwidths and harmonics of the transceiver, it was a ship mounted model of Benzite manufacture. They could have been anywhere when they transmitted the message."

"Could they have been headed for the Orion Confederacy?" Drake inquired.

"They very well could have been." The CIA agreed, "It would make sense since it would throw up jurisdictional barriers to our retrieving the hostages. Have we received a set of demands yet?"

"No." Drake answered sourly, "And I don't expect any. I suspect that bit was for our benefit, to rattle our chain."

"But why?" the CO asked.

"Outbound Ventures, Inc levelled Adrya Jeklan's organisation." The CIA answered, "One ship's crew in particular. Brin Macen's ship and crew. This could be a reprisal for that action."

"Do you really think so Harj?" Drake asked sarcastically, "This is an execution, pure and simple and we are its intended audience."

Drake turned to the CO, "Mirk, what response options do we have?"

"We have a covert ops team that's used to operating within the Confederacy's borders." the CO replied, "I must point out two potential problems. First, there are 38 habitable worlds in the Orion Confederacy and the prisoners could be on any one of them. That's if they're there at all and if they are they'll be heavily guarded. The second difficulty is that any persistent inquiries into the situation will expose our agents and get them killed."

"Frankly," the CO concluded, "I don't consider the loss of time and manpower worth it over two individuals that are no longer part off this organisation."

"They are still Federation citizens." Drake proclaimed coldly, "Does this mean you want to forsake the oath you swore to protect them?"

Chastised, the CO relented, "No. Of course not."

"Good." Drake said and stood. The CIA and CO jumped to their feet, "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll be putting option B into play."

"Yes, ma'am." the two executive officers said and exited Drake's office. After they'd gone, Drake commed Ambril.

"Have you got Riker's location yet?"

"Yes, ma'am. He's in Valdez, Alaska. In Kyle Riker's house."

"Intriguing. Patch me through."

"Right away." Ambril happily replied.

* * *

The Rikers, and soon to be family, had just sat down to dinner when the comm unit in Kyle's office began chiming. Kyle excused himself and went to answer whomever was calling. Decades with the Federation Diplomatic Corps had taught him never to ignore your secure comm.

When Kyle returned he placed a strong hand on Tom's shoulder, "Its for you."

Tom looked befuddled but rose and proceeded to the office. He sat down behind the desk and looked into the view screen. A grave looking Amanda Drake looked back.

"Hello, Tom." Drake said pleasantly.

"Whatever you may think, _Admiral_," Tom growled, "we are not on a first name basis."

"Very well, _Lieutenant,_" Drake replied coolly, "and before you object, you signed on to the Starfleet Reserves at your former ranks when you originally signed on with Outbound Ventures. That still holds. As of right now, I'm reactivating your commission. The same holds true for your crew."

"What about Radil and Parva?" Riker asked.

"Both hold brevet ranks as chief petty officers." Drake answered, "Those are reactivated as well."

"So," Riker's eyes narrowed, "what act of God is so desperate for you to call us out of retirement?"

"I'm about to relay to you a transmission my office received eight hours ago." Drake said and disappeared only to be replaced by a smug looking Orion. After the Orion's statement was concluded, the screen reverted to Drake and Riker was fuming.

"God damned bastard!" Riker snarled, "Who does he think he is?"

"His name is Daveed B'nner." Drake supplied, "He's the godfather of the Syndicate's operations in the Alpha Quadrant. Adrya Jeklan was a favoured lieutenant and this his response to your neutralising him and his operation."

"So now you want us to take out this sick sonovabitch?"

"I'm giving you a shot it." Drake nodded, "You and your entire operation. The SID will hire you to conduct a search and rescue mission."

"I thought that was taboo."

"As I told Macen, times change." Drake replied, "And you won't be in there alone. I have teams going in as well. We need to apply a full court press and root these _frinxers_ out into the daylight."

"And when we do?" Riker avoided the "if".

"Then we eliminate as many of them as we can." Drake's voice went cold.

"All right, we're in. I'll alert the other ship captains. I'm sure they'll jump at a contract as lucrative as ours _used_ to be." Riker responded flatly, "I'll need some time to gather up my crew."

"Already taken care of." Drake gave him a thin smile, "Courier ships are already en route to Pacifica and Trill. There's one standing by at Spacedock for you."

Riker shook his head, wearing a wry smile, "I've been manipulated from the start."

"You were given a choice." Drake said dryly, "You chose the option you were predicted to."

"You were lucky." Riker informed her, "If it weren't Macen and T'Kir, I would have turned you down out of sheer spite."

"I expected as much." Drake acknowledged and ended the transmission. Riker stared at the screen for several moments and then sighed. _Time to break the news to Jamie. _he thought bitterly.

* * *

The time spent on Pacifica had altered the social landscape of the _Solstice _crew. Parva had warmed to Dracas in light of his counsel to both her and Daggit. Radil had noticeably cooled towards Daggit but maintained civility. Grace was Radil's comforter and Daggit's supporter simultaneously. This turn of events had softened Radil's opinion of Grace.

Dracas was breakfasting with a fortysomething Trill. They'd met slightly after Dracas' arrival on Pacifica. The unjoined Trill, named Kiv Rever, was a flight engineer for a commercial pleasure liner. He was halfway through a month long stay on Pacifica when he and Dracas had joined one another's company. So far, their union had been satisfying for both of them.

Two Starfleet officers approached their table, one Command and one Security.

The Command officer, an ensign, spoke, "Master Chief, you've been recalled. We have transportation standing by."

Dracas chuckled, "I think you've got the wrong person, Sonny."

The ensign thrust a padd towards Dracas, "Your reserve commission has been reactivated. Your orders are all here and in order."

Dracas took the padd and began reviewing the scrolling text. Finally he set the padd on the table and scratched his head, "I'll be damned."

"I can't comment on that, Chief." the ensign replied smartly, "All I know is we have a ship waiting for you and your crewmates."

"My crewmates?"

The ensign nodded, "They're being contacted as we speak."

Dracas looked to Kiv, "I'm sorry. It looks like duty calls."

"I'll be fine…as long as you call."

Dracas smiled warmly, "That's a promise."

* * *

Lisea Danan had been surprised to find two Starfleet officers chiming the door of her family's home. Danan listened to the young ensign's explanation and read her orders. She then nodded, packed her things and said her goodbyes to her family. She then followed the two Starfleet officers to the middle of the yard. The ensign tapped her comm badge and they were whisked away by the transporter to the _USS Corazon_, a _Pathfinder_-class courier.

The last time Danan had been aboard a similar courier vessel, Macen had destroyed it and its crew. That decision had never sat well with Danan. Macen's highhanded ruthlessness was disturbing at the very least. Truth be told, she often wondered why Starfleet hadn't had him jailed or committed.

All that being said, she was still deeply attracted to him. She knew they were bad for each other. That had been thoroughly proven. Yet when it was all said in done, she'd never stopped being attracted to him.

Three years ago, in a moment weakness, Danan had considered re-igniting her relationship with Macen. Fortunately, T'Kir had warned her, rather forcefully at that. That warning had sobered Danan and since then she'd kept her lust under control and sought more stable relationships.

Danan found her current circumstance exhilarating. She'd only left Starfleet out of loyalty to the team. The chance to be a part of it again thrilled her beyond measure. She was part of something, something grander than herself, again.

The mission profile also appealed to her. A search and rescue in the Orion Confederacy of all places. It was little wonder they were taking the _Solstice _in. A starship would be far too visible.

She wondered how Macen would react to being reactivated. He was still rather angry with Starfleet for letting them go in the first place. That made her wonder how long their return to Starfleet would last. She hoped it was permanent.

* * *

Macen opened his eyes and clenched them shut again as his migraine lanced a blinding pain through his brain. Tentatively, he opened his eyes again. The pain was horrible, but he could endure it. He tried to move his arms from their upright position but found them restrained. He looked down and saw his waist strapped down as well. His feet were also bound and judging by the positions of his legs and arms, he was on an X shaped frame.

Macen looked to his left and saw T'Kir strapped to an identical framework. She was beginning to stir. His brain suddenly felt ripped apart and he realised that T'Kir's torment was infinitely greater than his.

"_Frinx_." she rasped, "We're in deep _shuk_."

Macen felt the same way, but tried to remain reassuring, "At least we're alive."

"Doesn't mean we'll stay that way." T'Kir said through gritted teeth as she clenched her eyes shut.

Macen couldn't deny their situation was grim. He didn't know what mysterious weapon had been used against T'Kir, but it had nearly torn her apart. It hadn't done him any good either. Between his telepathic rapport with T'Kir and his own empathic abilities, he'd felt like his mind had been dropped into a plasma manifold.

To his right, a door slid open and an Orion squeezed through. The hulking brute was the largest sentient Macen had ever seen. Like the Syndicate hit men on Midgard, the Orion wore a helmet. Seeing Macen studying it, The Orion smirked and tapped the side of the helmet's "temple".

"This keeps her from getting in here." the Orion rumbled.

"Why are we here?" Macen managed to say, "What do you want with us?"

"Let me begin at the beginning." The Orion said with far more respectability and civility than your average Orion, "My name is Daveed B'nner."

Macen thought he'd heard that name before then it dawned on him, "Bruis." he said, remembering the albino giant that had sacrificed himself trying to save the ill-fated _Eclipse_.

"Ah," B'nner smiled, "I see you remember my younger brother."

"Is that why we're here? Because your brother died?"

B'nner chuckled, "No. I ought to be thanking you. You saved me the trouble of killing him myself."

B'nner could see Macen was confused and proceeded to explain, "You're here because Adrya Jeklan was my lieutenant, my very right hand, and a valuable asset at that. Losing him was devastating enough but the loss of the hub of his operation has disrupted a very large portion of my position within the Orion Triad."

The Orion Triad were the three gangsters that ruled the Syndicate's operations in the Alpha, Gamma, and Beta Quadrants. The Alpha Quadrant was the largest fiefdom and also had the most to lose. B'nner's recent losses would pit the other bosses against him. The resultant power struggle could tear the Syndicate apart. Only a vote of confidence from the Syndicate's Don could stave off disaster. In order to do that, B'nner would have to prove he could still effectively deal with his enemies.

"We're here so you can prove to the Don you can still run your operation." Macen ventured and B'nner nodded, "So what now? D'you expect us to beg?"

"No, Captain Macen." B'nner laughed, "I expect you to die."

Macen wondered where he'd heard those words before as B'nner left.

* * *

"People!" Riker shouted over the tumult filling the _Solstice's _briefing room, "I'll be breaking down the situation succinctly in just a moment. Let me begin by informing you that this recall into Starfleet service was not unique to us. Every ship under the Outbound Ventures flag that used to operate under the auspices of the SID had been similarly pressed into active duty. Jamie is here to assist us as a temporary member of the crew"

"What about the crew of the _George Kelly_?" Daggit asked pensively.

Riker broke into a wry, lopsided grin, "They aren't included because they haven't been vetted by Starfleet Security and Starfleet Intelligence."

"I can tell you how I'm reacting to that." Kirk fumed.

Daggit chuckled appreciatively. Kirk was a fighter. She'd hate being left out of the action as badly as he would. Still there was another matter…

"I hear congratulations are in order." Daggit offered.

Riker's smile warmed and Kirk blushed, "Thanks. I hear the same about you."

Daggit looked over to Parva and smiled. She offered a coy smile in return. Riker noticed Radil's discomfort but refrained from comment. It wasn't his concern, unless if and when it interfered with the crew's proficiency.

"Okay," Grace spoke up, "We were drug here. Kort's here. Where are the Captain and T'Kir?"

Riker's expression grew grave, "Watch the main viewer and you'll get you answer."

The view screen went blank and Riker assessed the varied mood of the room. The expressed emotion ranged from outrage to apoplectic rage. Daggit looked as though he could wipe out the Orion Syndicate single handidly. Parva and Radil felt much the same way.

"What an intergalactic…_prick_!" Grace said harshly, "Get me close enough to this bastard and I'll turn him into a jellyfish."

Riker looked pained at the reminder of the awesome power at Grace's disposal but remained subdued, "It may come to that, Hannah."

Grace looked even more shocked by that statement then she had at the news Macen and T'Kir had been taken prisoner.

"What's the plan?" Daggit growled through clenched teeth.

"Admiral Drake's plan is that we slip into the Orion Confederacy posing as smugglers and mercenaries and canvas the Confederacy looking for Macen and T'Kir."

"And once we find them?" Radil asked.

"Officially, we extract them." Riker said, and then added, "Unofficially, we kill every _frinxing _one of them that stands in our way."

"Good." Radil said flatly. Daggit and Parva agreed with forceful nods.

"Now our Orion's name is…" Riker began.

"Daveed B'nner." Parva finished in a cold tone, "He's the Syndicate Triad Boss in charge of the Alpha Quadrant. Eliminate him and the Syndicate's operations in the quadrant will be thrown into chaos as a power struggle erupts."

"B'nner himself is cold, calculating, utterly devoid of humour or mercy. The only 'emotion' he feels is lust." Parva spat, "He is not to be underestimated and if encountered, not to be left alive."

"You sound is if you personally know him." Riker observed.

Parva gave him a cold smile; "He was my last 'master' before I escaped the Confederacy. He put a bounty of ten thousand bars of latinum on my head. That's what originally drove me to be a consultant for the Starfleet Corps of Engineers. Having every bounty hunter across two quadrants gunning for my head made me a little paranoid."

"I know the feeling." Radil murmured.

"Which is why we should be friends, or at least allies, rather than enemies." Parva observed dryly.

Radil looked taken aback, then her expression softened, "I'll have to think about that."

"Take your time." Parva smiled.

"How are we inserting?" Daggit asked, getting back to operational details.

"By using our alternate ID transponder. We'll fly under the name _Eclipse_ in memory of the ship of the same name."

"Can't we just assume the identity of that ship?" Grace asked, "After all she was our ship when she got destroyed."

"The odds are too great that the Syndicate knows about the destruction of the original _Eclipse_ as well as her being a _Ju'day_-class raider rather than a _Blackbird_-class scout." Riker explained, "Jamie, you'll have to play big chief to my little Indian. It's a good bet that the Syndicate has my brother's face on file and my name being tied in to Outbound Ventures."

"Gotcha." Kirk replied sombrely.

"Before that, we're going to pick up the _Corsair_." Riker announced.

"Why?" Dracas broke his silence.

"The assault phase will be two pronged." Riker answered, "Starfleet Intelligence has information indicating B'nner's base is protected by transport inhibitors. That requires a surface landing and our shuttle pods are too small to carry the rescue team."

"Which will be?" Daggit quietly asked.

"Grace will fly the _Corsair _while I helm the _Solstice_." Riker explained, "Rab, you Radil, Kort and Parva, since she presumably knows the layout of the place…" Parva nodded and spoke.

According to Parva, B'nner was most likely at his fortress styled mansion on Gryphynx, "It's an ancient castle with modern weaponry. Two centuries ago, the Orions conquered the native Gryphynxers. They were a relatively barbaric people, which is saying a lot when compared to Orions. The Gryphynxers hadn't progressed beyond swords and bows and arrows. The Orions had crude disruptors and basic warp capable craft. The natives never stood a chance. The indigs are slaves now."

"You'll all comprise the rescue crew team." Riker said then sobered.

"This is going to take subtlety and cracker-jack timing." Riker informed them, "But I know you, and the other captains I've conferred with, are up to the task so let's man our stations and prepare to get underway."

The crew instantly responded, snapping into action. Riker was pleased. Between the crew of the _Solstice_ and the crews of the other Outbound Ventures ships, Macen and T'Kir were being sought by some of the finest covert operatives in the quadrant. He was confident they'd reach them before they were executed.


	11. Chapter 11

164

1 "This just sucks." T'Kir said sourly, "First I'm tortured on my wedding day and now I'm kidnapped and condemned to death on my honeymoon. What gods did I piss off to deserve this?"

"I don't know." Macen admitted, "There were no temporal distortions around either of us."

The pair had been moved to a cell in some archaic dungeon. It had been designed to hold Orions, which meant that it could withstand even T'Kir's considerable strength.

"Which means what?" T'Kir asked as plopped down next to Macen on the cell's threadbare mattress.

Macen shrugged, "I guess it means this is what the Fates intended."

"Well, to hell with them and to hell with this! I wanna live!" T'Kir said venomously.

"I know the feeling." Macen concurred, "Don't give up hope yet. We might still escape. Barring that, the authorities on Midgard should have realised that there was a battle at our cabin, our runabout is still in orbit and that we're missing. They in turn should have alerted both Starfleet and Outbound Ventures. Both will send a response team."

"What makes you so certain Starfleet will care?" T'Kir asked cynically.

"It's official policy and it makes them look bad if they refuse to respond to the kidnapping of Federation citizens, even ones living abroad." Macen took a deep breath and plunged ahead, "That and they offered me a contract to bring back everyone working for Outbound Ventures."

"A what?" T'Kir was incredulous.

"They made an offer to bring in everyone in from the cold." Macen sighed, "We wouldn't be disavowed anymore. We'd be fully reinstated agents of the SID." Macen shrugged, "We'd also still get to pursue private contracts between assignments."

"And when exactly were you going to tell me this?" T'Kir asked coldly.

"After we returned from our honeymoon." Macen answered.

"Why the delay?" T'Kir asked with mounting anger, "I'm your bloody wife now as well as a partner in Outbound Ventures."

"You're a _junior _partner in Outbound Ventures. You get a vote but I get the final word." Macen stressed.

"So what have you decided oh, your high and mighty lordship." T'Kir asked sarcastically.

"The same thing that I decided before the honeymoon." Macen replied, "When we return…"

"You mean _if _we return." T'Kir groused.

"I mean _when _we return." Macen countered, "You'll peruse the offer and if you approve then it'll be passed on to the individual Outbound Ventures' captains for their scrutiny and final judgement."

That abated T'Kir's anger somewhat, "What d'you think of the offer?"

"I think it's surprisingly flexible and fair." Macen revealed, "They know they burned some bridges and they're honestly trying to make amends."

"Coming from you, that says a lot." T'Kir admitted, "But why didn't you mention this before we left?"

"Because then we'd be dwelling on it over our honeymoon." Macen smiled warmly, "And quite frankly, I thought we had better things to dwell on."

T'Kir finally broke into a begrudging smile, "Okay, I'll grant you that." She put her hands on her knees, "Well, we've had our first lover's spat."

"C'mon," Macen protested, "we've fought since we've become a couple."

"But not since we married." T'Kir insisted, "I think we should…make up."

Macen wore a rueful grin and shook his head, "You're incorrigible, d'you know that? You do realise that they probably have this room under surveillance?"

"Yah." T'Kir replied with an impish twinkle, "Let's give `em something to watch. We might be dead in a few hours or even a few minutes from now. I wanna have some fun before I go."

"Oookay." Macen demurred as he pulled off his shirt and began unlacing his boots, "I don't know how I let you talk me into these things."

"It's easy." T'Kir chimed up, "You think with your gonads."

Macen grimaced, "Gee, thanks."

"No problem." T'Kir waved his words aside, "Now hurry up and make up with me. It may be the last time we have sex. I want to remember it before we're killed."

"No pressure that." Macen muttered.

"Oh, you're up for the challenge, Big Boy." T'Kir smiled encouragingly, "I have faith in you, Grasshopper."

Macen sighed, "I never should have let you watch that old style 'movie'."

"But it was so educational." T'Kir objected.

"I'll show you 'educational'." Macen declared.

T'Kir smiled gleefully, "Sounds fun. Can't wait, so get over here already."

* * *

The _Solstice _had stopped by Midgard to recover the _Corsair_. Grace and Radil had boarded the _Corsair_ and were flying her to Confederate space beside the _Solstice_. The assault team would beam aboard just before they deployed. As it was, they'd been underway for two days and were speeding on, a day away from the Confederacy's border. The slower speed of the runabout hampered the _Solstice's _progress but the runabout was too vital to the mission to be left behind.

Aboard the _"Eclipse"_, Jamie Kirk sat erect in the centre seat, the scoutship's mistress in fact as well as name. Riker found it amusing to be taking orders from his fiancé. Fortunately, there was no sense of rivalry. In order for Kirk to effectively assume to role of ship's captain, she _had _to be the commanding officer. She'd proven she had the skills and she functioned well with the crew, so the charade was a plus. Anyone that had previously studied the tactics employed by the _Solstice_ would be surprised and the crew could use any advantage they could get.

"Mr. Riker, what's our ETA?" Kirk inquired with a smile.

"Thirteen hours, forty-seven minutes present speed." Riker replied then added, "_Ma'am._"

Kirk's smile broadened at Riker's teasing. She steepled her fingers and then rested her chin upon them.

"Lees, perform a comprehensive long range sensor sweep." Kirk ordered Danan, "I want to know what's ahead of us and who's flying in our baffles."

Danan utilised the OPS board to access the Astrometrics array and began her scan, "You do realise this will alert every passive sensor within 100,000 kilometres of our presence?"

Kirk nodded, "We're not trying to sneak in. We're trying to announce our presence well in advance. The sooner we alert the Syndicate as to our arrival, the sooner we can establish our bona fides."

"Do you think our cover story will hold?" Danan asked.

"Rab?" Kirk deferred.

"The police reports are genuine as are the Starfleet dispatches and warrants for our detainment and arrest." Daggit, "Right now, the Federation's police forces and Starfleet are greater threats to us than the Orion Syndicate."

The intercom chimed, interrupting any further discussion.

"Rab," Parva's voice rang over the bridge, "can you report to Engineering?"

Daggit looked to Kirk, who gave him a lop-sided grin, "Go. I'll cover your post."

Daggit nodded gratefully and made his way to the turbolift.

* * *

When Daggit arrived in Engineering, he found Parva standing by a workstation near the warp core. She had her arms behind her back and was wearing an impish smile. Dracas was busy monitoring the engines and making minor tweaks. Frankly, Daggit was surprised to see Parva here at this hour; her shift didn't start for another six hours.

"What's going on?" Daggit asked, all professionalism.

"Oh, lighten up." Parva scolded, "No one but Hal's around and he's not telling and secrets." Daggit's features softened and he embraced Parva and gave her a warm kiss.

"That's better." Parva purred.

"So why am I here?" Daggit asked again.

Parva removed a cover from the workspace revealing Daggit's grenade launcher and a cylindrical rod of some sort. Daggit shook his head.

"Okay, I'll bite." he scratched his temple, "What is it?"

"It's a magazine for your grenade launcher." Parva explained, "First you load your seven rounds in the launcher's internal magazine then you insert this into the feeding mechanism like so…" Parva deftly rammed the magazine home with a click, "You use the pump to chamber the rounds just like you do the internal magazine. When you expend the clip's fifteen rounds, you revert back to the internal rounds. Simple, yah?"

Daggit was astounded, "You're a genius!"

Parva waved the compliment aside, "Puh-lease! It was nothin' any other creative, innovative, inventive and utterly brilliant fem wouldn't have done in my place."

"Don't forget modest while you're at it." Daggit remarked dryly.

"Hey!" Parva protested, "Are you taking a shot at me?"

"Heavens forbid." Daggit put his hands up to ward off her hostility.

"Better not, Soldier Boy." Parva twinkled, "I know where you sleep."

"Now _that _sounds promising." Daggit teased.

"Ahem," Dracas cleared his throat, "I hate to break up a 'moment' but unless either of you intend to give me a hand around here, clear out of my engine room."

"Possessive isn't he?" Daggit remarked.

"Bloody tyrant is more like it." Parva commented.

"That's it!" Dracas said with mock indignation, "Get out!"

"Okay, okay." Parva held up her hands, "We're outta here."

On their way out, Parva looked up to Daggit, "As long as we're leaving, d'you think we'd have time to…?"

"No." Daggit replied with a tinge of disappointment, "I have to get back to the bridge. With Radil and Grace aboard the _Corsair_ and the Captain and T'Kir missing, we're awfully shorthanded everywhere but Engineering."

"Oh." it was Parva's turn to sound disappointed, "Okay. Later then?"

"Probably not until this mission concludes." Daggit advised.

Parva shrugged, "It's a date then. After the mission, we spend a few hours together."

"Dinner and…?" Daggit asked.

"I'll leave that to your imagination." Parva's smile was suggestive as she sashayed away.

_Sweet Grism, _Daggit thought as he watched Parva depart, _she's good!_

* * *

"So," Grace ventured, "what's the plan for our insertion?"

Radil shrugged, "Daggit hasn't told me yet." Grace noted Radil's use of Daggit's surname rather than the more familiar given name.

"I'm assuming the first part of the plan involves you getting us down without getting blown out of the sky by their defences." Radil remarked.

"No problem." Grace countered, "I've got it covered."

"You don't even know what the defences are yet." Radil pointed out.

Grace shrugged, "Doesn't matter. I've already figured out how to beat them."

"You'd better be right." Radil growled, "I don't want your _frinxing _overconfidence getting us all killed."

"Trust me." Grace smiled.

* * *

The massive door of the cell creaked open and the even more massive Daveed B'nner strolled in.

"Good news!" he rumbled, "I've decided to execute you tomorrow. Make peace with your gods." After that, he stepped back out into the outer passageway and the door was closed.

T'Kir pointedly looked at Macen, "Okay, can I panic _now_?"

Macen returned her gaze; his head slightly canted to one side and his lips pursed, "We're not finished yet."

"When will we be?" T'Kir asked sarcastically, "When they drop us in a vat of acid or behead us or whatever they actually do?"

"The Orions haven't beheaded anyone for almost fifty years now." Macen replied.

"Oh, _that's _a comfort." T'Kir grumped, "How can you be so calm?"

"An El-Aurian philosopher once wrote that you couldn't determine your end, you could only meet it and embrace it. How we die is as important as how we lived. It's a test of character."

"It's a test I'd rather cheat on." T'Kir groused, "Or better yet, skip altogether."

"I don't blame you." Macen agreed, "Frankly, I'd rather be anywhere else but this is where the Fates placed me. I'll meet my end, if that's what it is, as I've lived."

"And how's that?" T'Kir asked flippantly.

"With conviction." Macen said calmly.

T'Kir sighed, "You're right. The only that sucks about this is there's no one to pass my _katra _on to. I guess my essence won't be stored atop the repository on Mt. Seleya."

"I wouldn't worry about it." Macen confided, "If what I suspect is true, you'll be in for a surprise if we die."

"What kind of surprise?"

Macen shrugged, "I'm not entirely sure but it'll be an adventure."

"You're nuts." T'Kir said despairingly.

Macen moved closer and wrapped his arms around her, "Whatever happens, we'll face it together."

"That's a comfort at least." T'Kir breathed heavily, "Now just hold me and let's remember happier times."

"Remember when I first met you?" Macen chuckled, "You'd driven Ro to the edge of madness and she foisted you off on me to rid herself of her biggest nuisance."

"And Lisea instantly hated me." T'Kir laughed.

The conversation lasted late into the night and the pair fell asleep in each other's arms.

* * *

The disguised _Solstice _and the _Corsair_ had been stopped at the Confederate border and were being vetted by the Syndicate. The captain of the frigate parked in front of the _"Eclipse"_ was busy chatting up Jamie.

"So, 'Captain Kirk' is it?" the Ktarian asked, "Strange name for a smuggler."

"And what kind of name is Booljam for a Syndicate enforcement ship?" Kirk replied archly.

Booljam appeared ready to respond when a subordinate distracted him and whispered into his ear. Booljam smiled at Kirk.

"Your story checks out. Proceed to Gryphynx and petition for work there. Do you require co-ordinates?"

"That would be greatly appreciated." Kirk lied, knowing the co-ordinates were already in the nav computer, "It's our first trip to the Confederacy after all."

After a brief comm exchange, Booljam signed off and the frigate went on its way. The _Solstice _and the _Corsair _got underway. Gryphynx was two hours away at their best speed. The crew had been awake for eighteen hours now but they were all taut and poised and ready for action.

* * *

The heavy door to the cell creaked as it swung open on its ancient hinges. Two Orions entered the cell. T'Kir delivered a wheel kick to the lead Orion. His head rocked from the blow, and then he backhanded T'Kir.

She flew several feet backwards. Macen ran forward and ducked under the Orion's bulging arms. He fired off a punch from his shoulder and landed it squarely in the Orion's crotch. The Orion sank to his knees and moaned loudly as he toppled over backwards.

Macen then dove and rolled under the second Orion. He kicked upwards and struck the second Orions testicles with all the force he could muster. Macen scrambled to his feet as the Orion curled up into a ball and fell forward.

T'Kir had risen to her feet and joined Macen at the door. They exited only to find the passageway filled with disruptor wielding Syndicate enforcers. They placed binders on Macen and T'Kir's wrists and led them down the passageway.

* * *

The _Solstice _cloaked upon entering the Gryphynx system. The assault team beamed aboard the _Corsair_ and they sped off for Gryphynx. They made orbit in thirty minutes and began planning the rescue operation.

Kirk, manning Tactical in Daggit's absence, noticed a telltale blinking. She examined the source of the alert and discovered it to be a transmission in the clear being broadcast from the planet below. She put it on the main viewer.

"Hello, Admiral Drake and assorted sentients." B'nner said for the benefit of the holocameras, "Welcome to our festivities. Up for your viewing pleasure is the execution of Brin Macen and T'Kir. These two star-crossed lovers recently disrupted a major Syndicate operation. It is time they make amends, and they shall…with their lives."

"And now for the main event." B'nner said gleefully and stepped out of the camera's view.

A half dozen armed beings led Macen and T'Kir, wrists bound, into the room with the two X-frames. They were each forced in front of once of the body moulds. T'Kir and Macen each ripped away from their antagonists. They met in the middle and kissed each other fiercely. Rough hands ripped them apart.

"I've always loved you!" T'Kir declared.

"I know." Macen replied, "I've loved you with all of my heart."

Their binders were removed and they were strapped into the body moulds. B'nner strolled up alongside them. He gazed at their confinement with satisfaction.

"Any last words?"

"Nothing you'd want to hear." T'Kir snarled.

"Ah, defiant to the end." B'nner said with a chuckle, "That's good. I like your spirit. And what about you?"

"I have nothing to say to you." Macen declared.

"Too good to speak with me?" B'nner laughed.

"Not at all." Macen clarified, "I just don't talk to dead men."

"I'm not dead yet."

"But you will be very soon." Macen explained, "Probabilities are in flux around you. I suspect you won't make it through the day."

"You're the only one dying today!" B'nner sneered.

Macen grinned, "No, I'm not."

"Fool!" B'nner growled and stalked off to the side. B'nner raised his hand and the gunmen assembled in front of the prisoners.

"Take aim!" B'nner shouted. The Syndicate assassins raised their rifles to their shoulders. Macen and T'Kir looked over towards one another. T'Kir mouthed, "I love you" one final time. Macen returned a beatific smile.

"Fire!" B'nner boomed and the six gunmen unleashed a volley of disruptor fire. Macen and T'Kir convulsed as the particle beams struck them. Afterwards, they slumped into the restraints of the framework they were bound to. A medic ran over and examined them.

"They're dead." the medic declared.

B'nner returned to his place before the camera, "And that, as they say, is that. Take this as a warning as to what happens to those that interfere in the Orion Syndicate's business." With that, the transmission terminated.


	12. Chapter 12

180

Amanda Drake switched off her comm and sat back in her office chair and stared at the blank screen in utter, stunned disbelief. She felt as though she were slipping into shock. Macen and T'Kir had always been so _vital_ and _alive_. They'd seemed immortal.

Slowly, Drake intercommed Ambril, "Delori, did we get a trace?"

"The bug we planted on the Rigellian relay worked." Ambril reported, "The signal derived from the planet Gryphynx in the Orion Confederacy."

"Inform the crew of the _Bounty_…and inform them that it's now a recovery mission." Drake said in a flat tone.

"Ma'am?" The Bajoran Lieutenant asked.

"Macen and T'Kir are dead." Drake said without emotion. She couldn't allow herself to feel emotion. These people had long ago moved beyond subordinates, they'd become friends. That's why the rift between them had been so painful. Now they'd never make amends.

There'd be no more verbal sparring with Macen. No more unpredictable antics out of T'Kir. No more complete and total devotion between them. It was all so incomprehensible. They were supposed to outlive her, not the other way around.

Drake tipped her chair back and fought back tears. _Some Iron Maiden I'm portraying now._ she thought miserably, _This is totally ruining my self-image._ Even then, she knew it would only get worse before it got better. The crew of the _Solstice _was still out there and they'd want vengeance.

* * *

The viewer reverted to the orbital shot of Gryphynx and her near space environment. Riker looked gut punched. Danan was on the verge of tears. Dracas was a vision of infinite sadness. Kirk herself was composed and sprang into action.

"_Eclipse_ to commander _Corsair_," She said into the comm pick-up, "Come in."

* * *

Aboard the _Corsair_, reactions ran the full emotional gamut. Radil was the picture of gaunt stoicism. Parva was indignant. Kort was contained rage. Tears rolled down Grace's cheeks.

Daggit was silent. His eyes fixed on the mini comm screen that they'd just watched Macen and T'Kir's death on. His eyes had grown as hard as obsidian and as lethally cold as the vacuum of space. His features had transformed to the visage of death itself.

"Rab?" Parva asked, radiating concern.

Daggit glanced over at her and her stomach froze. She'd never seen him like this, at least not when he wasn't triggered by his combat conditioning. She suddenly feared what he was capable of when starting from this point. _Whatever that is, _she thought, _I chose to stand by him and I will._

The comm chimed and Grace sniffled, wiped her eyes and activated the screen. Kirk appeared in it.

"What are our options?' she said, "Shall we try for a recovery?"

"Damn straight we will." Daggit snarled as he bent over to be seen by the comm's visual pick-up, "I'm not leaving them down there to be defiled by God knows what."

"There's another factor to consider as well." Kort spoke up; "El-Aurians and Vulcans tend to retain brainwave activity for extended periods after 'death'. It's possible, if we reach them in time, that I could revive them."

Kirk nodded, "Your mission's green lighted Rab. Good luck."

"Thanks." Daggit replied grimly. He stepped back and gestured towards Parva, "Parva has highlighted different sections and entrances of the converted castle B'nner uses as his headquarters. This information is stored in the central computer. Grace, you'll find your landing site highlighted. Kort, how long do we have?"

"Twenty, thirty minutes." Kort supplied.

"All right." Daggit said in a dead, flat tone, "We're on the clock. Let's go."

"First things first." Grace said and stuck her hand in her pocket, "Okay, we're ready to go."

* * *

"What the hell?" Kirk scratched her head.

"What?" Riker asked over his shoulder.

"The _Corsair_," Kirk replied, "it's just fell off my sensors. She's nowhere to be found."

Riker smiled thinly, "Grace."

* * *

T'Kir stared in wonder at the scene stretching before her. Laid out before, seemingly stretching out forever, was a wall. The wall had a gate that she and Macen stood in front of. T'Kir looked at Macen.

"Brin, where are we?"

"This is the next step." Macen answered, then seeing her confusion, he continued, "As I've told you, El-Aurians live partially phased out of the reality we knew. This is the literal gateway to the next reality."

"But why am I here?" T'Kir asked, "I'm not an El-Aurian."

"But your mind is tied to mine." Macen explained, "As my consciousness make the transition over, so can yours."

"What's through there?" T'Kir asked apprehensively.

"I don't know." Macen admitted, "I've stood here a dozen times and helped people across but I've never been able to ventures through the gate myself."

"What happens if I refuse?"

"Then you become a shadow, a formless wraith that haunts our old existence." Macen divulged, "You have to make up your mind soon, or that's what'll happen to you."

"Oookay," T'Kir put a hand to her temple, "this is a lot to absorb. If I go through that gate, you don't know what happens. But if I stay behind, I become a ghost."

"At best." Macen agreed, "Look at it this way, at least we'll discover what's out there together."

"You're intent on stepping through that thing aren't you?" T'Kir asked.

"Yup." Macen nodded, "Aren't you?"

T'Kir sighed, "I go where you go, so lead on."

Macen took T'Kir's hand strolled up to the gate. He reached out and pushed it open. A bright, glaring light prevented them from seeing what lay ahead but they forged ahead and entered anyway. The gate swung shut behind them.

* * *

The _Corsair_ came to rest on an outer buttress. It was one of the few outcroppings of the castle that was studded with weaponry. Parva informed them that it was one of three buttresses utilised as landing pads.

"Now," Daggit said tersely, "if we only had a distraction."

"Ask and you shall receive." Grace replied and moved to the runabout's Tactical board, "Show me again what section of the castle the Captain and T'Kir's bodies are."

"This half, right in front of us." Parva indicated on the crude schematic she'd patched together.

Grace pulled out her Attuner, "Hold on to something."

Daggit appreciated the feral gleam in her eye as she depressed the activation stud of her Attuner. Mere seconds later, the castle they sat upon began to shudder and shake. There was a tumultuous thundering noise as half the castle collapsed to the ground. A dust cloud settled on everything for kilometres around.

"I think that'll distract them." Grace said with an evil smile.

"Girl," Radil put her hand on Grace's shoulder, "you are dangerous."

"You have no idea." Grace murmured.

* * *

T'Kir felt wrapped in pure _joy_, "Brin, where are we _now_?"

Macen looked stunned, "We're in the Nexus! I never thought I'd end up back here."

"Where were you, I mean we, supposed to go?" T'Kir inquired.

"I have no idea." Macen admitted, "There's been lots of speculation but no one suspected this."

Macen paused then looked pensive, "Then again, every El-Aurian that was extracted from the Nexus left behind a portion of their essence, an echo of themselves. Perhaps this is my opportunity to reunite with 'myself' and return to being a whole being."

"So now what?" T'Kir asked, basking in the quintessence of the Nexus.

"Well, as you can see, we're standing on Midgard." Macen said, "That's the beauty of the Nexus. It's a temporal anomaly. We can go anywhere and anyplace in time and the universe."

"I could go to Shial and see my parents?" the scenery shifted even as T'Kir spoke. A Romulan and a Vulcan stood before her, "Papa? Mama?"

"We're here, dear one." T'Kir's mother spoke, "We'll never leave you."

T'Kir embraced and was embraced by her stepfather and her mother while tears of joy flowed from her. Macen put his hands on her shoulders and led her aside.

"D'you see it now? This place can show you anything you want to see."

"Is it real?" T'Kir whispered.

"It's as real as your perception of it." Macen divulged, "You really do travel to those times you envision but circumstances adapt themselves to your desires."

"Can we leave?" T'Kir asked suddenly.

"According to classified records, Captain Jean-Luc Picard successfully left the Nexus and stopped my great uncle Tolian Soran from destroying Veridian III."

"How'd he do it?"

"He simply envisioned going back to the point in time _before _Soran launched his trilithuim missile into Veridian's star." Macen revealed.

"Could we do that?" T'Kir fervently asked.

Macen stared at her as though she'd lost her mind.

* * *

"Squad, move forward." Daggit said as he moved further down the passageway. Radil trailed him, packing her portable phaser cannon. Parva came next, poised and ready with her phaser rifle. Kort took the rear, wielding his _bat'leth_ in one hand and his phaser pistol in the other.

A door opened as Kort passed by. Kort holstered his pistol with one hand as he swung the _bat'leth_ with the other. On the first stroke, he caught the Syndicate man's wrist, causing him to drop his Ferengi manufactured phaser. His second stroke was an impaling sideways thrust. Kort then lifted the man with the _bat'leth_, splitting his abdomen and forcing the blade into the man's heart. Kort then dropped the man and removed his weapon's blade from the corpse.

Parva whistled as she surveyed the carnage, "Remind me never to piss you off."

Kort merely replied with a menacing smile. The display had been carefully observed by Radil. Since Kort's introduction to the psychohypnotic treatments of the rehab, he'd been more confident and in control of his impulses. Radil found him increasingly attractive again. Only time would see if she should do something about it.

Voices resounded through the corridor ahead as a corner loomed ahead. Daggit called a halt to the team's advance. Daggit racked the pump slide of his grenade launcher and waited. Radil took up position beside him.

The assorted Syndicate henchmen turned the corner and Daggit fired a grenade into the wall behind them. The resultant explosion shredded those closest and shrapnel wounded a dozen more. Radil "neutralised" those that were merely staggered.

Daggit signalled the squad forward. They stepped lightly through the butchery of torn and mangled bodies. None quailed before the face of the killing. Daggit pressed forward as fast as they could safely manage. The clock was ticking and they were dangerously close to losing Macen and T'Kir forever.

_That's not going to happen, _Daggit vowed, _Even if I have to kill everyone left in this castle._

* * *

"There's a lot of comm traffic." Kirk reported to the rest of the bridge crew, "Apparently half of B'nner's castle headquarters collapsed under mysterious circumstances."

Riker shook his head, "Grace."

"How could she do that?" Kirk asked.

"Because she can do anything she damn well pleases." Riker remarked, "Macen was the only force keeping her in check before. Who knows how'll she'll behave in the advent of his death?"

"Kort may still be successful." Danan ventured.

"You're a scientist, Lees." Riker said wryly, "What are the odds of that?"

Danan sighed, "Not very good."

"Try piss poor." Riker commented.

"Whatever the case may be," Kirk interrupted, "We have people on the ground and reinforcements are on the way to extract B'nner's people."

"Do we have a plan?" Riker enquired.

"We stop them." Kirk declared, "I'll give you specifics later."

Riker rolled his eyes. It was like sitting under Macen. Although, Macen's fly by the seat of your pants approach had worked more often than not. Riker hated to admit that he'd miss it.

* * *

Daggit racked his launcher for a second salvo. Radil continued blasting away. Parva and Kort joined in the action and took low to the others' high. Three-dozen Syndicate sentries had been assembled in front of the doorway that lay ahead of the recovery squad. Daggit pressed the attack because undoubtedly B'nner was on the other side and Daggit wanted a "word" with him.

Daggit launched his grenade and another half a dozen enforcers fell. Only a mere dozen were left. Parva flipped a switch on her rifle and it began firing in pulse mode.

"What did you do?" Radil called out even as she nailed another Syndicate crony.

"I converted the rifle to fire in pulse mode when you throw this switch." Parva described.

"Can I have one?"

"As soon as we get back to the _Solstice_." Parva promised.

Radil smiled in satisfaction and felled another gunman. It required another few minutes to clear the hallway for Syndicate troops. Daggit enquired as to how much time they had left.

"Minutes." Kort informed him.

"Stand back." Daggit said tersely and took aim with his grenade launcher. He began rapidly firing at the duranium door before them. As Daggit expended his final round, the door toppled over. Pulling out his pistol, he rushed the smoke filled doorway.

Inside they found Daveed B'nner and Macen and T'Kir's corpses still strapped to the body moulds. B'nner smiled.

"I suppose you have something to do with the destruction of half of my castle." B'nner rumbled, "Impressive trick by the way."

"We're full of surprises." Daggit said, aiming his phaser at B'nner. Talking to Kort and Radil, he ordered, "Cut them down."

"Ah, Radil Jenrya...and Parva." B'nner leered, "Thank you for returning my property to me. When I finish killing you I'll take my pleasure from them."

"No, you won't." Daggit vowed, "Kort?"

Kort removed the comm beacon from Radil's back and activated it. B'nner shook his head sadly.

"This facility is laden with transport inhibitors. Your companions aren't going anywhere."

"Just keep watching." Daggit smiled coldly. In a blink of an eye, Kort, Radil and Macen and T'Kir's bodies disappeared.

"Impressive." B'nner allowed, "But you're still here with me."

Daggit handed his phaser and grenade launcher and the bandolier of grenades to Parva. Next he stripped off his shirt and undershirt. Lastly, he pulled on a pair of leather gloves.

"Are you challenging me?" B'nner asked incredulously.

Daggit nodded and assumed a fighting stance. B'nner's smile grew until it nearly consumed his face. Meanwhile, Parva removed the launcher's external magazine and began reloading the internal magazine.

"Prepare to die, worm." B'nner growled.

Daggit said nothing but advanced on B'nner. The Orion swung his massive fist and Daggit sidestepped it. B'nner roared his displeasure and lunged for Daggit with his arms spread to deliver a crushing embrace. Daggit ducked and thrust his leg out, tripping the Orion crimelord.

Even as B'nner crashed to the timbers below their feet, Daggit spun up into a fighting crouch. B'nner got his knees beneath him and rose to his feet. When he turned to face Daggit, his eyes were filled with murderous fury. Daggit responded with a taunting smile and by a gesture egging B'nner on.

B'nner rushed forward. Daggit caught the Orion's arm and pivoted, throwing B'nner over his shoulder utilising the green skinned behemoth's own momentum. The timbers groaned as B'nner slammed into them. Daggit spun out of B'nner's reach and waited for his opponent to rise.

* * *

Kort and Radil carried Macen and T'Kir to the runabout's infirmary. The internal modules of the runabout consisted of two interconnected medical units. Another was a brig. The last was an armoury.

As Kort busily readied his equipment and activated his scanners, Radil shrugged off her cannon in the armoury. Grace hovered outside the infirmary. She stopped Radil as the Bajoran was re-entering the medical suite.

"How are they?" Grace stammered, "I mean, can we…?"

Radil placed a reassuring hand on Grace's shoulder, "It's too early to tell. Kort has to start working." Radil paused then asked, "Is there anything you could do?"

Grace shook her head, "I don't know their anatomy. I'd do more harm than good."

"But you turned the _Shadow's _crew into little cubes." Radil reminded her.

"I was turning a known form into a known form." Grace explained, "I wasn't mucking about with someone's insides when I don't know what goes where."

"I think I see your point. That's why you needed the comm beacons to extract us those two times." Radil realised.

"Right." Grace nodded, "I couldn't 'move' you until I knew where you were so I could place you on the ship."

"Radil!" Kort called out.

"I've got to go." Radil said, "You can best serve by waiting for Daggit's extraction request and then flying us out of here."

"Okay." Grace reluctantly agreed and walked back to the cockpit.

Radil entered the medbay, "What do you need?"

"Monitor these readings while I attempt pulmonary resuscitation." Kort instructed.

Radil took up position before the screen recording brainwave activity, heartbeat and pulse. Kort aligned the cardiac defribulators over the patients' chests and triggered the first shock. There was a spike on the sensor read-out and then it dropped to nothing again. Kort shook his head and prepared to try again.

"What's the brainwave status?"

"Minimal and fading fast." Radil reported.

Kort swore a particularly nasty Klingon epitaph and proceeded to try again. The second attempt yielded the same results. The race against the clock was swiftly working against them as the last embers of brainwave activity were dying out.

Kort tried again, again with no response. Kort feverishly reset the equipment when Radil gently touched his shoulder, "Kort…it's no use. They're gone."

Kort whirled about and stared at the read-outs. The brainwave activity had ceased. Kort leaned back and released a howl of frustration and mourning. He bellowed away, shouting his friends into _Stova'Kohr_.

* * *

"What d'you mean 'can we go back'?" Macen demanded.

"Look at this place, Brin." T'Kir argued, "It isn't real. I want a life with you, a _real _life with heartaches and triumphs. I want children, _our_ children."

"We could have children here." Macen countered.

"Phantoms." T'Kir rebutted, "I want _tangible _children that won't disappear when I focus on something else. I know this place is special to you. Believe me, I can see why. Part of me is happier than I've ever been…but I need more."

Macen sighed, "So do I. I need you." A sudden jolt shot through them both. it was followed by another, then another, "What the…?"

"Someone must be trying to revive us!" T'Kir exclaimed happily, "This is it! All we have to do is focus on going to the time after they tried to revive us."

Macen nodded, "If Picard was right, it should work."

* * *

"Time and date of death were…" Kort was reporting for his medical log.

Suddenly, Macen and T'Kir gasped and rose to a seated position.

"By Kahless!" Kort yelled.

"Prophets help us!" Radil said and stepped back.

Macen and T'Kir swung their legs down to the deck. Macen looked over to T'Kir.

"Happy to be back?"

"I feel like _shuk_." she complained.

"Welcome to the wonderful world of having three disruptor rifles blast you." Macen remarked dryly.

"At least it's real." T'Kir said as she rubbed her temple, "Look, I know what the Nexus meant to you. At least you know where you'll be headed after you die next time."

Macen shook his head, "I'm whole. My echo no longer resides in the Nexus. The mystery remains. Who knows where we'll go."

"What d'you mean 'we' buster?" T'Kir replied indignantly, "Next time you get killed on your own."

"Yah, yah." Macen waved the thought aside and moved in front of Kort. Kort just stared at him in silence. Macen waved his hand in front of Kort's face with no response, "What's wrong with him?"

"Same thing as Radil." T'Kir answered, "They're in shock."

Macen sighed, "They'll have to pull themselves together later. C'mon let's check out the cockpit and find out what's going on."

After they departed, Kort and Radil stared at each other in mute astonishment. Next they heard Grace's delighted shrieks.

"It isn't possible." Kort finally said.

"Did you here them?" Radil asked, "They spoke about being somewhere else. They truly came back from the dead."

"I need to research this 'Nexus'." Kort declared, "Perhaps it will yield untold medical applications."

"Good luck." Radil replied, "In the meantime, how do you write this up?"

"I have no idea." Kort admitted, "No idea at all."

* * *

Grace gushed as she embraced T'Kir, "I can't believe you're alive!"

"Actually, neither can we." Macen retorted.

T'Kir elbowed him in the ribs, "Once we found a way back, we had to take it."

"Back from where?" Grace asked.

"The Nexus." T'Kir replied nonchalantly.

"Oh my God." Grace gasped, "The Nexus?"

"Yup." Macen concurred.

"Unbelievable." Grace murmured.

"Let's see," Macen said, "You're here. Kort and Radil are here. I assume this was a recovery mission."

"Yes." Grace nodded.

"Where's Rab?" T'Kir asked.

"He's still in B'nner's citadel. Parva's with him." Grace reported.

"Parva?" T'Kir said with an arched eyebrow.

"A lot has changed since you guys went on your honeymoon. Let me update you…" Grace smiled.


	13. Chapter 13

195

_It's time._ Daggit thought, having fully analysed B'nner's fighting techniques. He then snapped off a wheel kick that landed across the Orion's jaw. This was followed by a left jab to B'nner's iron hard gut. A smashing right to the crime boss' nose ended the initial assault as Daggit spun out of reach.

Daggit took a moment to observe the results of his attack. B'nner's nose bled emerald blood and his eyes blazed with fury. Daggit leapt in for a quick follow up. He led with a left jab that was followed by a right cross.

Rather then parry, Daggit remained close in. He delivered a sidekick to B'nner's face. A stunning backhand followed this. A right cross was next, and then another backhand then another right cross.

Suddenly B'nner exploded into action with a side splitting right jab delivered to Daggit's ribs. A devastating left cross drove Daggit to his knees as his vision blacked out. Daggit looked up, blood pouring from his split lip. B'nner loomed over him, an evil smile spreading across his features.

* * *

Three raiders and two armed freighters dropped out of warp dangerously close to Gryphynx. They moved into orbit and proceeded to scan the surface below. The _Solstice _silently observed them as they floated above the world below. Then the Syndicate ships separated, preparing for action.

The _Solstice _decloaked and leapt into battle. She fired off multiple torpedoes as she raised her shields. She wove in between the other ships, darting above and below them. She passed by them all, phasers firing then looped over and made a second pass.

* * *

Daggit shook his head to clear it. _I've seriously underestimated this guy. _he realised, _He's been playing possum…whatever a possum is._ B'nner stepped forward to finish Daggit off. Daggit threw a punch from the shoulder into B'nner's crotch. As the massive Orion fell to his knees, Daggit rose and twisted at the waist. Meeting B'nner's eyes, Daggit viciously chopped the Orion brute's throat, smashing his airway. B'nner began to gasp for air.

"Go ahead." B'nner rasped, "Kill me."

"I would." Daggit replied with an artic calm and jerked his thumb over his shoulder, "But _she_ has first right."

Daggit stepped out of the way to reveal Parva standing, wielding the grenade launcher. Her smile was as cold and merciless as Daggit's. She racked the launcher's slide, chambering a round.

"Say goodbye you bastard." Parva said savagely and fired.

B'nner gurgled his defiance until the grenade struck him. He then exploded, throwing viscera and gore across the room. Both Daggit and Parva were covered in it.

"Gods that felt good!" Parva exclaimed.

"Messy though." Daggit observed, wiping gore off his chest.

"Poor baby, I'll give you a bath later." Parva cooed, "C'mon, let's get outta here."

* * *

"There's their signal!" Grace announced and depressed the activation stud on her Attuner.

"Holy _shuk_!" T'Kir cried from the runabout's OPS station, "What did you do, detonate the guy?"

"That's right." Parva beamed as she looked at a piece of entrails clinging to her shoulder.

"Get back to the crew compartment and take a sonic shower and recycle those clothes." Macen ordered from the Sciences station.

"Right away." Daggit nodded then added, "Congratulations on being alive, sir."

"Thanks, now scoot." Macen shooed them out with his hand.

"Prophets!" Radil gasped from the Tactical station after Daggit and Parva had departed, "I knew he was angry, but I never thought he'd resort to that."

"It wasn't Rab alone." Macen said softly, "Parva played a part as well. I think we've finally seen both of them unleashed."

"I could…" T'Kir suggested.

"No." Macen replied, "Let's respect their privacy. They have to sort out the consequences of their actions on their own. They'll ask if they want help."

"Brin," T'Kir mildly scolded, "they just _blew _up the bad guy and are wearing him. That requires more than "sorting out the consequences of their actions'."

"What does collapsing half a castle, crushing its inhabitants require?" Macen asked.

Grace blushed as T'Kir rebutted, "That's different. Hannah was providing a distraction and paring down the opposition's forces."

"She still committed mass murder." Macen countered, "We refer to it as 'neutralising enemy targets' but it still boils down to mass murder."

"Then you've committed mass murder as well." Radil pointed out.

"I'm not denying that." Macen admitted, "the destruction of the _Pathfinder _and _Starfarer Station_ both constitute murder on a large scale. They were tactical and strategic necessities but they were still a cold blooded slaughter."

"Well, I'm gonna finish my slaughtering." Grace declared as she lifted the _Corsair _of the buttress landing pad. She activated her Attuner and the remaining half of the castle collapsed. Grace looked over at T'Kir with a feral grin on her face.

"How's that for a strategic necessity?"

T'Kir hesitated then said, "Seems just about right."

"That's what I thought too." Grace nodded in satisfaction as she piloted the runabout upwards into orbit.

* * *

In the rearmost compartment of the runabout, Daggit and Parva had recycled their clothes and weapons in the manufacturing replicator. Next they took a sonic shower together. Afterwards they replicated new clothes and got dressed.

"How do you think the others will react to what we've done?" Parva asked.

Daggit shrugged, "Does it matter?"

"I'd still like to have a few friends among the crew." Parva informed him.

"If they are your friends, they'll stand by you." Daggit replied.

"You seem awfully certain of that." Parva frowned.

"These people have seen me do some bloody awful things and they haven't cast me out. Give them a chance and they'll give you one." Daggit stressed.

Parva took a deep breath and released it, "Okay, I'll play it your way. But this had better work out."

"Trust me." Daggit gave her a confident lopsided grin, "Now let's go forward and see if we can help."

"All right." Parva nodded resolutely.

* * *

"All craft are disabled or destroyed." Danan reported.

"Excellent." Kirk commented, "My sensors corroborate your analysis. I've also just received a comm signal from the _Corsair_. Apparently Captain Macen and T'Kir are alive. They've departed, and destroyed, B'nner's base in the process of the recovery."

"So Kort's theory was correct." Danan inquired.

Kirk shook her head, "Not exactly. Kort had pronounced them dead and was recording his death certificate when they suddenly returned to life. This all involves some kind of temporal anomaly. I didn't ask because they can explain more later."

"At least they're alive." Riker said, obviously relieved.

"Appears that way." Kirk nodded.

An alarm sounded on Danan's board and she reviewed her sensors, "We have a vessel approaching at high warp. It appears to be a frigate of some kind."

"Captain Booljam?" Riker theorised.

"Probably a good guess." Kirk conceded, "All right, let's get ready for another fight. I'll order the _Corsair _to remain under cover of whatever cloaking effect Grace blanketed the ship with."

* * *

Aboard the _Corsair_, Macen shook his head, "Hannah, can we use our weapons under the cover of your 'cloak'?"

"Yeah." Grace supplied, "We can do anything, except be detected by sensors."

"What about their viewer cameras?"

Grace shook her head, "Nope."

Macen looked over to Daggit at Tactical and Parva seated at Engineering, "I hope you two are up for another fight."

"Ready and willing." Daggit replied.

"No problem." Parva responded.

"Then let's be our side's ace-in-the-hole." Macen bared his teeth in an expression that was far too predatory to ever be mistaken for a smile.

* * *

"Attention _Eclipse_, heave to and prepare to be boarded. Failure to comply will result in your destruction. Captain Booljam, Orion Syndicate Enforcer ship _Bolero_, awaiting your reply." the toneless voice spoke over the comm.

"Sounds like they're spoiling for a fight." Kirk smiled thinly, "Let's not disappoint them. Tom, set 036.5, 182 degrees down bubble. Engage and then loop us about and attack the enemy along their ventral plane."

"Yes, ma'am!" Riker replied excitedly.

* * *

"It appears our erstwhile comrades are attacking the frigate's ventral plane." Macen observed dryly, "I guess that means we should concentrate on the dorsal axis. Hannah, take us in 'low' and fast. Rab, fire at will as targets of opportunity present themselves."

"Hannah, make us visible to the _Solstice's _sensors. I don't want them accidentally shooting us." Macen instructed.

Grace fiddled with her Attuner even as she guided the _Corsair_ on its attack run, "Y'know, I could just eliminate our problem here."

"Let us mere mortals fight our own battles, Hannah." Macen said gently, "Participate as an equal player and you may learn something."

"We _are_ using my invisibility screen." Grace pointed out.

Macen grinned, "So you'll learn a little less today."

* * *

"Captain," Velora Abrim, Booljam's Ekosian second in command, reported, "We're receiving secondary phaser fire from an unknown source."

"What do you mean?" Booljam snapped. The battle thus far had been decidedly in the _Eclipse's _favour. The _Bolero_ was a century and half old Tzenkethi frigate. She still possessed missiles and point defence _lasers_. She was ideal for threatening merchantmen but was evenly matched by even a modestly equipped scoutship. The _Solstice _could outrun and outmanoeuvre her, which offset the advantage the _Bolero _possessed in sheer volume of offensive fire. The _Bolero _was a cylinder with outcropped warp nacelles. The frigate was essentially a much larger, heavily armed, version of Zephrim Cochrane's _Phoenix_.

"While the _Eclipse _attacked us from below, another cloaked ship fired on us from above. They broke off when the _Eclipse _cleared the dorsal plane and looped over for a second attack run. The mysterious attacker then moved to our aft quarter and is currently firing on our impulse manifold."

"Impossible." Booljam muttered, "No ship under cloak can fire its weapons."

"Apparently this one can." Abrim observed dryly, "Your orders?"

Booljam shook himself, "Ready the point defence lasers. Have them fire a spread across the aft quarter. If they're shielded, the lasers will refract of their shields and give us a targeting solution."

"Yes sir!" Abrim said happily and moved on to pass on the orders.

_Good girl._ Booljam thought with satisfaction.

* * *

The _Solstice _banked and followed the _Bolero's _dorsal plane along its _x_-axis. She took fire even as she let her fury be known. Overloaded circuits across the bridge and Engineering sparked and exploded. Kirk gritted her teeth and pressed on.

"Tom, bring us about across their bow and then down their lateral plane. I want a shot at those warp nacelles."

"You got it." Riker called out.

* * *

The _Corsair _launched all six of her microtorpedoes at the _Bolero's _impulse engines. The frigate's shields blocked most of the torpedoes but two got through. They savaged the unprotected manifold but it wasn't enough to knock the engine off line. In the meantime, the _Bolero _revealed an unexpected response.

"What the?" T'Kir muttered.

"What?" Macen said from his station.

"They're lasing us." T'Kir replied.

"Lasers?" Macen wondered, then his eyes widened, "Evasive action!"

"What?" Grace asked even as she flew into action. It was already too late. Three disruptor cannons had locked on to them and fired. The diminutive runabout "rocked" in space as particle beams buffeted her.

Shields overloaded and collapsed. Circuits across the ship exploded. When the barrage ended, the _Corsair _lay adrift, venting plasma to open space. Her darkened bridge was silent as a tomb.

* * *

The _Solstice _passed by the _Bolero's _broadside. Disrupter cannons fired, scoring a hit now and then against the scoutship. As the scout reached the middle of the frigate, she trained her weapons on the upcoming warp nacelles.

Missile hatches along the broadside opened and multiple launches roared forth, followed by a second volley, then a third. In all, seventy-eight missiles were launched in the span of two minutes. They accelerated toward the _Solstice _driven by fusion powered impulse engines. At maximum thrust, their relative velocity was just below lightspeed, .91 _c_ to be precise. The _Solstice's _max acceleration of .85 _c _meant that she would be overtaken sooner or later.

"Evasive!" Kirk shouted, "Hard to starboard!"

Riker threw the ship to its left even as Kirk rerouted auxiliary power to the shields. Kirk violently swore as the missiles bore down on them, their acceleration increasing by every second. They were going to get hit and hit hard. Those missiles boasted antimatter warheads. However you looked at it, the situation was grim.

* * *

"Is everyone all right?" Kort shouted as he and Radil emerged from the _Corsair's _medbay. Emergency lighting had come on and Kort could see the others sprawled across the cockpit. At the Tactical station, Daggit was trying to regain his feet. Kort moved to assist.

"I'm all right." Daggit croaked even as he examined his shattered console, "See to the others."

Kort and Radil moved amongst the others, performing basic triage. Only Parva was truly unconscious. Grace fluttered in and out of consciousness, a sign of concussion. Kort immediately moved her to the med unit as Radil checked on Parva's vitals. T'Kir and Macen both stirred.

"Oh, my achin' head." T'Kir complained as she held her hand to her right temple. She'd cracked her head against the side console during the barrage. Macen blearily surveyed the runabout's condition. His board fought him every step of the way, and what results it yielded weren't good.

"Of all the times for Hannah to be incapacitated." he muttered.

The hiss of a hypospray was followed by a groan as Parva came awake. She groggily looked around and then nodded to herself.

"Right. Guess I'd better see how badly we're damaged."

"Sooner's better than later." Macen urged, "Concentrate on sensors first. Everything else will be secondary."

"Right." Parva shook her head, trying to clear it, "It'll just take a sec."

* * *

"Clean hits on both targets." Abrim reported.

"Damage assessment?" Booljam inquired.

"Both craft appear to be crippled." Abrim reported with a smile.

"Just out of curiosity, what sort of craft had that cloak?"

Abrim shook her head, "It appears to be a Federation runabout."

"A Federation runabout and a Federation scoutship." Booljam mused, "Some kind of belated rescue attempt?"

Abrim nodded, "Seems likely."

"Well, keep an eye on both craft." Booljam instructed, "They might have some other surprises in store for us. They've already produced one mythical weapon, I don't want them pulling Corbomite out of their hat next."

"Yessir." Abrim clicked her heels together and went back to the "trenches". Booljam knew that her planet had once been dominated by a fascist regime emplaced by a Federation historian. The vestiges of that regime on her planet's culture lingered still. The disciplinarian aspects of that government made her an excellent officer and subordinate but it also meant that she was far more _fervent _in her loyalty to the Syndicate than anyone else aboard.

"Ah," Booljam sighed, "she'll mellow with age."

* * *

Riker coughed as thick smoke filled his lungs. The shock of the multiple detonations had thrown him from his seat. He heard another cough and saw Danan propping herself up with one arm, trying to gather her senses. Riker then looked back towards Jamie…only Jamie was at Tactical.

Then Riker fully realised the situation. Tactical was destroyed. It had literally exploded. He began to scramble to his feet, all the while searching for Kirk.

Finally, he spotted her through the acrid smoke filling the bridge. She was crumpled in front of the briefing room door. She looked broken, as if some monstrous child had cast a doll aside. Riker shouted her name and sprinted to her, ignoring his own injuries.

Kirk lay twisted at the hips, back to the deckplates. Her arms and legs were limp and flailed. Her body was covered with burns and contusions. She was nonresponsive.

"Lisea!" Riker shouted, "Bring me a medkit!"

Danan detached the medkit attached to the OPS console and ran as fast as she could to Riker and Kirk.

"Hurry!" Riker urged as Danan knelt beside Kirk, "She's not breathing."

"Start CPR." Danan instructed as she pulled out the medical tricorder and activated it. Riker straightened out Kirk's hips and then began rescue breathing and chest compressions. Danan prepared a tri-ox injection and loaded it into the kit's hypo. She injected it with a hiss and took more readings.

"Oh _shuk_!" Danan said as she took her latest readings, "I'm not reading any brain activity."

"Do something!" Riker desperately begged between compressions.

Danan attached a cortical sensor to Kirk's temple and refined her scans. At first she pursed her lips then, solemnly, she slowly closed the tricorder's clamshell. She gently placed a hand on Riker's shoulder. Riker pulled away and defiantly shook his head.

"No!" he shouted, "She's not dead. She can't be. We were going to…" Riker choked off the last part of his statement. "Oh God!" he wailed and collapsed atop Kirk's still form. Danan sat there, comforting him as best she could.

* * *

"In short, we're screwed." Parva commented.

"Want to be a tad more technical?" Macen asked dryly.

"We have no propulsion, no weapons, no shields, life support's iffy at best and our sensors have been reduced to a pile of crap. I don't even want to think about what we're not 'seeing'."

"So, it's not good?" Macen gave her a wry grin.

"We're so _frinxed _it ain't funny." Parva replied sourly.

"So what d'we do about it?" Macen asked.

"What?" Parva exclaimed.

* * *

"Ready the missiles." Booljam ordered, "Let's finish this."

"Sir!" Abrim called out, "A Klingon _Bird-of-Prey_ just decloaked off our aft quarter. She's raised shields and powered up weapons."

Booljam sighed, "Hail them."

"They're hailing us."

"Put on my screen."

Booljam was surprised when disreputable looking human appeared on the screen, "Attention frigate, these individuals are wanted in the Andergani Oligarchy and we fully intend to collect the bounty on them."

"And if I refuse to let you have them?"

The human gave him an evil smile; "I've seen your ship in action. Trust me, we both know who'd win in that engagement."

Booljam wanted to protest, but the human was correct, "Very well. You may have the crewmen but the ships remain."

"I'll destroy them myself." the human promised.

* * *

The crews of the _Solstice _and _Corsair _were beamed aboard the _HMS Bounty_. Macen was delighted to see Captain Robert Petain, Starfleet SID.

"Good timing as ever, Rob."

Petain bowed, "At your humble service. What else could I do for a man that's risen from the dead?"

"Get us the hell out of here." Macen requested.

Petain nodded, then softly added, "I heard you lost one of your own."

Macen grimaced, "She was captain of one of my company's ships. She was also engaged to my first officer."

"Poor devil." Petain shook his head; "I suppose that's the one holding vigil over her body?"

"Got it in one." Macen replied, "Any ETA on our departure?"

"First we have to destroy both your vessels."

Macen saddened at that, "I know that's the price of our freedom but I wish there were another way."

"Unfortunately there isn't." Petain assured him, "I half expected this 'Booljam' to put up a fight."

"He's a better tactician than I would have expected from the Syndicate."

"He's a merc." Petain replied, "And some mercs are good. Your experience with Radil should have taught you that."

"Trust me, it has." Macen sighed, "All right, let me watch you blow up my ship and then I'll pay my respects in Sickbay."

"Viewer on." Petain ordered, "Weapons, lock torpedoes on target and fire on my command."


	14. Chapter 14

208

A week later found the crew assembled in the chapel on the Riker estate. Gathered together were the crews of every Outbound Ventures ship. Jamie Kirk was to be cremated and interned in the Riker family mausoleum. In the short time they'd known one another, Kirk, Kyle Riker and Betty Gandy had become family in the truest sense of the word. They weren't about to see their daughter cast aside to some plot where no one she loved would remember her.

Tom stood before the gathered assembly and haltingly began to speak, "I'd like to thank all of you that have gathered here in Jamie's…memory. She'd have appreciated it as much as I do." Riker's eyes moistened as he continued, "I loved Jamie more than life itself. She was vital…alive in the truest sense of the word. There was no gloom she couldn't lift me from. I respected her from the very first moment we met." Riker faltered, "I'm sorry…I can't do this any more."

Macen rose and guided Riker back to his parents. He then stood behind the pulpit.

"A great starship commander once said, 'risk is our business'. Truer words have never been spoken. We have chosen, or found, lives that are inherent with risks and dangers. Jamie accepted these risks." Macen declared, "She wouldn't have wanted us to mourn her. She would have wanted us to celebrate her life. She died facing impossible odds and she did so without flinching. Embrace that courage and face the days ahead knowing that Jamie Kirk has led the way, just as she always has."

Macen straightened up and continued, "When I first met Jamie, she'd just helped my crew out of an impossible situation. She served with the Iotian Starfleet at that time and we had no reason to believe that she would continue bailing us out of the antimatter. When she showed up on Outbound Ventures' doorstep, alone, exiled and bereft of purpose, I took her in. She'd come seeking Tom Riker, but he was MIA, presumed dead, at the time. The news of Tom's 'death' came as a blow to her but she recovered and embraced her new life with the crew of the _Solstice_."

"The day we discovered Tom was alive and rescued him from his captors was the happiest in Jamie's life up to that point. It was quickly followed by the joy of receiving her own command. Seeing a starship commander returned to the bridge of her own ship is a sight to behold." He informed the crowd, "She tackled crew selection with the same fierce determination and guile that she so effectively used to defeat her enemies."

"Jamie was a paragon. She epitomised so much of what we try to achieve. We should look at her whole life, not just her death, and use it as an example of how we can live. Jamie seized life. She grasped on to every moment of the day. She led us while she was alive. We should continue to follow her lead and her example of how to meet our own end." Macen concluded and stepped down with a slight bow of his head.

* * *

"Captain Macen?" Kyle Riker tentatively asked. The funeral party had shifted to the grounds and the main house. Macen and T'Kir were currently consoling Tom.

"Yes?" Macen asked with an arched eyebrow.

"I…have a message for you." Kyle informed him, "It's being routed to my office."

"And that's a bad thing?"

"Considering the fact that my comm line is protected by the latest diplomatic security ciphers, yes, I suppose it is." Riker scratched his head, "You'll see when we get there."

Macen excused himself and accompanied Kyle to his office. Kyle meant to excuse himself but Macen motioned for him to stay. Macen sat down behind the desk and took a look at the comm screen. Pictured was the oldest Orion Macen had ever seen.

"Ah, Captain Macen. Still alive I see. I see the rumours were true." The Orion's gravelly voice grated over the words.

"Robhurt B'nner, I presume?" Macen replied.

That produced a rock grinding chuckle, "I can see why my son underestimated you."

"Perhaps it was the overconfidence of having the Orion Godfather as your father that did it." Macen suggested.

B'nner's features saddened, "Perhaps. That is what I commed to talk about."

"Overconfidence?"

"Vendettas." B'nner corrected, "Specifically the foolish one my son launched against your company and crew. It's over. My son should have accepted his losses and fought you on an equal playing field, our mercenary forces competing for business with your privateers. We have the economic reserves to accept losses long enough to bury you."

"So is that round two?" Macen inquired.

B'nner shook his head, "I said its over and it is, on my personal authority. This foolish quest for vengeance has cost too much already. I'm certain you'd agree, having just buried one of your own."

Macen bristled, "You're awfully well informed."

"Son," B'nner broke into a wan smile, "we're the Orion Syndicate. We have eyes and ears everywhere."

B'nner moved to switch off the transmission but thought better of it, "You'd better inform Starfleet Command that if we encounter another ship named _Eclipse_ or a _Bird-of-prey_ named _Bounty_ in our territory, we'll shoot first and ask questions never."

Macen nodded, "I'll pass that along."

"I suggest you do it later this afternoon at your meeting with Admiral Drake."

Macen stiffened, "I'll do that."

B'nner chuckled again, "I thought you might."

The transmission ended and Macen leaned back, "So, what d'you think?"

Kyle Riker shook his head, "It sounds as though they've thoroughly infiltrated Starfleet."

"That's how they want it to sound." Macen informed Riker, "They probably have a few choice titbits and are playing it up for all they're worth."

"I hope you're right." Kyle shuddered at the thought of the Syndicate having penetrated Starfleet's security.

"Well, there's nothing that can be done about it right at this moment." Macen said as he rose from behind the desk, "I suggest we return to the party and cheer Tom up."

Kyle nodded, "Sounds like a good plan."

* * *

"I'm so sorry about Jamie Kirk." Amanda Drake gushed, "I'm even more sorry I couldn't free up my schedule to attend her service."

"Tom would've appreciated the gesture." Macen demurred.

"I've already tasked the SPYards with refitting and constructing replacements for the _Solstice _and _Corsair_. Any requests for names?"

"Keep the original names." Macen answered, "They'll both have proud legacies to live up to."

"I see." Drake paused then plunged on, "I suppose you know why I requested this meeting."

"You want to know my decision regarding your contract proposal." Macen replied.

"And?" Drake replied with the barest hint of anxiety.

"I ran the proposed contract past T'Kir and the assorted captains under the corporate umbrella. They agreed with the spirit of the contract but want a few guarantees."

"Such as guaranteed replacements for lost vessels and recruiting assistance for lost personnel." Macen replied, "Most of all, they want a five year minimum guarantee of employment."

Drake shifted uncomfortably in her seat, "What do you want?"

Macen shrugged, "I'd be willing to accept the contract at face value. Unfortunately for you, you're contracting with Outbound Ventures as an entity, not me."

"We could make it an exclusive contract. It virtually will be in your case anyway." Drake suggested.

Macen shook his head, "That would breed resentments that I'm not certain the company could survive. It's all or nothing Amanda."

"Dammit Brin, you never make it easy do you?" Drake asked.

"I try." Macen broke into a lop-sided grin.

"Let me call Alynna and see what I can arrange." Drake shook her head.

Her intercom chimed and Drake activated her comm screen to find Ambril looking back, "Admiral, Admiral Nechayev is here to see you."

"Let her in." Drake said then shook herself, "How the hell does she do that?"

Macen smiled, "She's the Director of Starfleet Intelligence."

Nechayev walked in and placed a consoling hand on Macen's shoulder, "I'm sorry to hear about Jamie Kirk. She was an incredible woman."

"Contact Tom Riker and express your condolences. He'd appreciate them more." Macen suggested.

"Of course." Nechayev half nodded, "Now I believe you were discussing the contract proposal we submitted to Outbound Ventures."

"Yes." Drake replied warily.

"And I suspect that the employees of Outbound Ventures have made a counter-proposal you're somewhat uncomfortable with." Nechayev continued.

"Yes, they want…"

"Give them what they want." Nechayev cut Drake off, "After all, weren't you the one that said we had to get _all_ of the Outbound Ventures' captains and crew working for us again, regardless of cost?"

"Yes." Drake answered in a defeated tone of voice.

Nechayev winked conspiratorially at Macen, "Then I suggest you dust off the plans to acquire the _Obsidian _and transfer her to Outbound Ventures' control. You have explained our proposed 'purchase' of the surveyor as a condition of our contract?"

"Yes." Drake sounded utterly defeated.

"Good." Nechayev said with satisfaction, "So, Brin, what do you say? Will you work for the SID again?"

Macen rose and shook Nechayev's hand, "It sounds too good to pass up, Alynna."

"Good." Nechayev clapped her hands together, "Then let's get to work. I'll activate the volunteers eager to enlist with Outbound Ventures. Amanda here will arrange for your officers and the crew to transfer to the ship."

Macen nodded, "Sounds good. I'll return to Alaska and gather the troops. We'll ship out tomorrow."

"The crew should be ready by then as well."

"You were fairly confident of my answer, weren't you?" Macen asked ruefully.

"You're a man of purpose, Brin." Nechayev confided with a smile, "You were wasting away out in the cold. I knew you'd latch on to an opportunity to come back. We just had to make it an equitable exchange."

"There is one matter." Drake spoke up, "Tom Riker. What are his plans? Will you give him command of the _George Kelly_?"

Macen shook his head, "Tom isn't ready for an independent command yet. He's too twisted with anger at the Syndicate. I'm afraid that if he had a ship, he'd launch a vendetta against the Syndicate. Collectively, we can't afford that right now."

"No, no you can't." Nechayev agreed, "Trust me, he'll get his chance eventually."

Macen sighed, "I know. Tom's still not going to take this very well."

* * *

And he didn't, "Dammit Brin! I've earned this command!"

"I'm not denying that nor am I saying the opportunity won't be there in the near future."

"What's the 'but' here?" Riker asked bitterly.

"The 'but' is the fact you're so filled with anger and hate right now that I'm afraid you'll go off on some self styled crusade to avenge Jamie. That's not what she would've wanted."

"How the hell would you know what she'd have wanted?" Riker snapped angrily.

"If you recall, I'm a low level empath. I also share a telepathic rapport with a high level telepath. I probably knew her as well as you did. She was devoted to you, dedicated to her crew, and utterly professional regarding the mission. What she didn't have was a vindictive bone in her body. If you'd died and she'd lived, she'd have mourned, accepted the loss and moved on."

Riker threw a right cross at Macen. Macen sidestepped it and caught the arm by the wrist and twisted it behind Riker's back. He then turned Riker and put him into the closest wall.

"This is what I'm talking about." Macen said sternly, "You're not in control. If you need time off, take it."

"Let go of me and I'll show you 'out of control'." Riker snarled.

Macen applied pressure to Riker's wrist and the bigger man grimaced, "Fighting me won't solve a thing, Tom. I _strongly_ suggest you take some time off and stay with your parents for awhile before I end up breaking your wrist to make my point."

"All right!" Riker gasped, "I'll do it!"

Macen released Riker's arm and stepped back, "Good decision. They'll be a slot aboard the _Obsidian_ for you."

"The _Obsidian_?"

"My new _Nova_-class command." Macen explained.

"What about the _Solstice_?" Riker asked.

"The SPYards are constructing a replacement. The estimated completion date is a year and a half from now." Macen paused and his eyes bored into Riker's, "I mean for you to take command of her when she's completed. That all depends on you, of course."

Riker swallowed hard, "Thanks. It means a lot."

"Thank me later." Macen advised, "It hasn't happened yet."

"It will." Riker said with a hint of a smile, "Trust me, I'm not going to let this opportunity slip away."

Macen finally smiled, "I'm glad to hear it."

* * *

The next day at the transporter station, awaiting a beam out to Starfleet headquarters, the future officers of the _SS Obsidian_ anxiously awaited their first glimpse of their new ship. There was still a lingering sadness but for the most part everyone had come to terms with Jamie Kirk's loss and was prepared to move forward. There was an overriding sense of hopeful anticipation.

They materialised on the public transport pads at the sprawling Starfleet compound. They were met by a lieutenant who escorted them to, and cleared them for, the primary Starfleet transporter station. Next, they beamed up to Spacedock. This time a lt. commander met them. The commander led them through the warrens of Spacedock until they reached a viewport with a clear view of a berthed _Nova_-class surveyor.

"There she is." Macen said proudly.

"Nice lines." T'Kir observed.

"Can't wait to see what she can do." Grace revealed.

"I can't wait to see what she's got under the hood." Parva remarked. Dracas chuckled as everyone else stared at the Orion engineer.

"I'm not sure what she just said but I echo the sentiment." Dracas confided.

"Finally," Danan said, "a full Sciences section."

"And a full sized Sickbay complete with a HoloDoc for back-up." Kort added.

"And shuttles." Grace spouted off gleefully.

"Okay people, we've seen her. Now, let's board her and make her ours." Macen urged.

* * *

"Shannon Forger, sir." a thirty something human woman introduced herself, "Ship's 2nd Officer and Assistant Tactical Officer."

"Hello, Commander." Macen acknowledged, "I have a surprise for you, for now at least, you're the acting 1st Officer."

Forger blinked in surprise, "I'm not sure what to say."

"How about 'thank you, sir. I hope to make you proud'." Macen suggested.

"Exactly!" Forger beamed.

"Well, since it looks like we're back to using a rank hierarchy, I suppose I'll be referring to you as 'Commander" for awhile."

"You could always call me Shannon." Forger suggested.

"Perfect." Macen smiled, "Now why don't you show my people around the bridge."

The bridge was circular with a single helm console right before the main viewer. Two chairs, for the CO and XO, sat right behind the helm. Tactical sat to the immediate left. Ops sat to the other side of the turbolift doors. The MSD display divided the rear stations. Sciences sat to the rear and right of the command chair. Next came the doors to the Captain's Ready Room. The Engineering station sat to the right of those doors.

Grace was sitting at the helm, caressing the controls. Daggit was inspecting the _Obsidian's _defensive capabilities. T'Kir was busy at OPS rewriting the central computer's programming. Danan was admiring the Sciences station and Parva was running diagnostics and conferring with Dracas down in Main Engineering from the Engineering station.

"It appears to me as though they've found everything on their own." Forger mirthfully informed Macen.

Macen eased himself into the command chair and rubbed the sides of the chair, "I guess I should make myself at home then."

Forger grinned from ear to ear, "Sounds like a plan, sir."

Macen leaned back and reflected on how long he'd dreamt of commanding a ship of this class. _Far too long._ Macen silently observed, _But patience has finally paid off._

Macen was reclining in his office chair in his Ready Room when T'Kir buzzed to be let in. Macen ordered the computer to open the door. She took one look at him and shook her while wearing an impish grin.

"Making ourselves comfy?" she asked as she took a seat on the corner of the desk.

"Breaking everything in." Macen solemnly explained, "After all, this is a new hull. We're her first crew. We need to treat her right."

"So," T'Kir replied with a bemused smile, "you finally got the command of your dreams."

"That's right." Macen confirmed.

"And when we destroy this ship?" T'Kir asked with a straight face.

T'Kir could see the hurt in his eyes as Macen responded, "Then I get another one. Starfleet is finally releasing this class to civilians. That's the pretext to our having one."

"They're releasing them to research organisations like the Daystrom Institute." T'Kir countered, "How do we qualify under that pretext?"

"We do commercial scouting as well as our privateer work. Our letter of marque grants us the right to operate decommissioned starships or utilise starships released to civilian service. Our bona fides are established. There won't be any problems."

T'Kir snorted, "I can't wait to tell you 'I told you so' when you get proven wrong."

"So why are you really here?" Macen asked, "You're brimming with barely restrained curiosity."

"And you're blocking my telepathy you stinker." T'Kir scolded, "Daggit said you'd received a comm from Admiral Drake."

"Yup." Macen concurred.

"You're not going to tell me are you?" T'Kir said in exasperation.

"You haven't asked me for any information." Macen reminded her.

"Did we get our orders?" T'Kir practically shouted.

"Yup." Macen answered smugly.

T'Kir groaned, "You're going to make me wait until you announce it to the whole crew aren't you?"

"Yup."

"That's it, you're dead!" T'Kir lunged atop Macen, "Prepare for the tickle torture."

* * *

The _Obsidian _cleared the massive Spacedock doors and Macen smiled, "All right people, let's find out what she's got."

Anticipation rippled throughout the bridge as the ship leapt into subspace and vaulted to warp 6. They had a ship and they had a mission. Life was complete.

_The tale continues… _


End file.
